


Lacrosse Legacy

by adelindschade



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family Adventures, OC, Personal Growth, Some angst, Teenage Rebellion, covinksy, funny moments, hijinks ensue, some musings, teenage dramatic flare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelindschade/pseuds/adelindschade
Summary: A short series recounting how the lacrosse family legacy continues: in the third-person narrative of Peter and Lara Jean's youngest daughter and middle child, 15 year old Danielle M.C. Kavinksy.Danielle "Nell" is blackmailed into doing something she hates the most - lacrosse. Follow her misadventure as her sentiments change and scheme to hide it from her parents quickly unravels.





	1. The Playbook I

**Author's Note:**

> This preface isn't an actual narrated chapter. It's a sample of what's mentioned in the second chapter and many others to come. For those unsure about how lacrosse works, this chapter will explain most of it.   
> I will also attach a link that informed me & offers visuals. 
> 
> LINK: http://www.sportspectator.com/fancentral/lacrosse_women/guide03.html

** RULES OF WOMEN’S LACROSSE  **

****

**General Information:**

  * **50-60-minute game**
    * **25-minute halves**
    * **Separated by 10-minute halftime**
  * **Teams switch sides of field during second half**
  * **Start game with a DRAW at center of field.**
    * **Team that possesses ball in DRAW is OFFENSE**



_DIAGRAM:_

**[ _End of Field ]_**

** GOAL  **

1H (First Home)

2H (Second Home)

3H(Third Home)

**  (RESTRAINING LINE)  **

AWAW (Attacking Wings)

** CENTER  **

( C ) (Center)

** CIRCLE **

DWDW  (Defending Wings)

** (RESTAINING LINE)  **

3M (Third Man)

CP (Coverpoint)

P (Point)

** 12 METER FAN  **

** 8 METER FAN  **

** GOAL CIRCLE  **

G (Goalkeeper)

** GOAL **

**_[ End of Field ]_ **

 

**The field consisted of 12 players.**

It could be seen one way:

**3 attackers – 5 midfielders – 3 defenders**.

Or

**A goalkeeper, 5 attackers, and 6 defenders**.

 

Terms: Areas

  * **Goal:** Points score when the ball passes through six-by-six-foot square
  * **Critical Scoring Area:** Unmarked area.  *Defenders must allow a free space goal if occupied by offense. 
    * 15 meters front
    * 15 meters on the side
    * 9 meters behind
  * **Twelve-meter fan** / _“the fan”_ : 12-meter semi-circle. *Can administer minor fouls.
  * **Eight-Meter Arc** / “ _the arc_ ”: 
    * *Defenders must be within a stick’s length of their Attackers.
    * *Can administer **a free shot**.
  * **Goal Circle** / “ _crease_ ”: Circle that surrounds the goal – only goalies can enter
  * **Center Circle:** Circle in middle of field where a draw is held
  * **Restraining Line:** Divided area – maximum of seven offensive and eight defensive players (including goalkeeper). _*Team Foul if exceeded._



 

In the perspective of an **_ATTACKER_ ,**

**First Home / 1H**

_(Closest the Goal)_

| 

·         Highly skilled with stick

·         Relied upon to score  
  
---|---  
  
**Second Home / 2H**

_(Second Closest to Goal)_

| 

·         Versatile Playmaker

·         Must be open to set up scoring opportunities  
  
**Third Home / 3H**

_(Third Closest to Goal)_

| 

·         All-around player

·         Key transition from DEFENSE to OFFENSE  
  
**Attack Wing / AW (1)**  
_(Around Center Circle)_

| 

·         Speedster

·         Strong passer

·         Strong shooter

·         Wide range

·         First to gain possession of a draw  
  
**Attack Wing / AW (2)**  
_(Around Center Circle)_

| 

·         Speedster

·         Strong passer

·         Strong shooter

·         Wide range

·         First to gain possession of a draw  
  
 

 

In the perspective of the _DEFENDER_ ,

**Point – P**

Compared to First Home

| 

·         Decision making

·         Positioning

·         Shot-blocking  
  
---|---  
  
**Coverpoint – CP**

Compared to Second Home

| 

·         One-to-one defender

·         Speed

·         Footwork  
  
**Third Man / 3M**   
Compared to Third Home

| 

·         Multi-dimensional athlete

·         Disturb attack on midfield

·         Intercept passes

·         Cover open attacker  
  
**Center - C**

| 

·         Transition from defense to offense

·         Control draw  
  
**Defense Wing – DW (1)**

| 

·         Speed

·         Endurance

·         Possess good outside shot

·         Match Attack Wings  
  
**Defense Wing – DW (2)**

| 

·         Speed

·         Endurance

·         Possess good outside shot

·         Match Attack Wings  
  
**Goalkeeper – G**

| 

·         Protect the goal

·         Use any body part

·         Lightning-fast reflex

·         Make quick decisions  
  
 

Terms & Plays:

  * **Blocking** : moving into path of a player without providing space for the player to stop or change direction.
  * **Charging** : player with the ball comes into contact with a defender who has already established position
  * **Checking** : hitting the opponents crosse to dislodge the ball.
  * **Clearing** : passing or carrying the ball out of the goal circle
  * **Cradling** : running with the stick in either one or both hands in a manner that keeps the ball in the pocket.
  * **Cutting** : attacker runs toward the goal looking to get open to receive a pass
  * **Deputy** : a defender who can enter the goal circle in the absence of a goalie when her team as the ball
  * **Draw** : start or resume play* 
    * place ball between sticks of two opposing players.
    * Whistle is blown.
    * Sticks are drawn up and away.
    * Ball is sent airborne.
    * Only one player can take possession of ball.
  * **Fast Break** : an opportunity to score in transition to offense with at least a one-man advantage.
  * **Free Position** : after a foul, all players must be at least four meters away from the player who was fouled. 
    * *Attacker may run, pass, or shoot the ball after whistle is blow/play is resumed.
  * **Free shot** : penalty awarded from hash mark on the 8-meter line when major foul is committed within 8-meter arc. 
    * *All players, except the goalie, must move outside the arc. When umpire blows whistle, layer can take a shot on goal or pass while defense moves in.
  * **Free Space to Goal** : inside critical scoring area, defenders must stay out of space between the ball-possessing player and the goal circle, unless the closely mark an opponent.
  * **Indirect Free Position** : following a minor foul within the 12-mete fan, play resumed from 12-meter fan and the player may run or pass but cannot shoot.
  * **Marking** : defender is within a stick’s length of an opponent.
  * **On the Fly** : substituting during a play. 
    * *when one player exits the field through the team substitution area, another can enter.
  * **Penalty Lane** : path that is cleared between the ball-possessing player and the goal when a _free position_ is award to the attacking team inside the _critical scoring area_.
  * **Pick** : offensive layer impedes opponent’s ability to defend a teammate. 
    * *Must be within the visual field of the opponent.
  * **Scoop:** picking up a ground ball in the crosse pocket
  * **Scoring Play:** a single possession of the ball in which the offense moves the ball in an effort to score.
  * **Slashing:** recklessly swinging the crosse at an opponent’s stick or body
  * **Slow Whistle:** permitting play to continue during a penalty inside the _critical scoring area_ on a _scoring play_ to allow an offense to maintain its advantage.
  * **Stand:** all players, except the goalkeeper in her goal circle, must remain stationary following the sound of any whistle.
  * **Sphere:** An imaginary bubble, about seven inches around the head of a player, that an opponent’s crosse cannot enter to ensure safety.
  * **Three-Second Rule:** defensemen may not remain in the arc for more than three second without guarding another player.



Fouls:

When is foul is committed, all layers must stand / remain still until further notice.

Minor Fouls

| 

·         Cradling ball too close to body or face

·         Touching ball with hand

·         Intentionally forcing ball out of bounds  
  
---|---  
  
Major  Fouls

| 

·         Violating opponent’s sphere

·         Slashing

·         Blocking

·         Three-Second Violation

·         Illegal picking

·         Pushing / Tripping

·         Charging

·         Dangerous Shooting


	2. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unfair proposal & Nell's reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot written for this short story but I have to tweak it slightly because of a story line change - bear with me. More should come soon!!

Chapter One:

_The Playbook_

 

The six-page atrocity was printed in nauseating yellow and stapled lazily in the top left corner. The cover photo featured the trademarked Spartans logo. Should she flip it, she’d find another wasted tree. The text was in basic Times New Roman.

 

**Congrats on making the team!**

**You’ll make a wonderful addition to this years’ Women’s Varsity Lacrosse!**

**Please carefully read this manual before the first practice.**

**Further instructions will follow.**

**Take care,**

**Sr. Coach Craig Anderson**

 

Underneath the text was  a post-in note she was too angry to read. She had hidden it under the front cover.

_“Dani,_

She sneered. She hated that name. No one called her Dani and those who did weren’t people who knew her. It was either Danielle, if she was in trouble, or preferably Nell. Or Nelly. _Never, ever Dani._ Or Danny. Whatever variation.

She could barely make out his chicken scratch.

 

_“I’m so impressed with your performance on the field!_

_You’re going to make an excellent attack wing._

_I’m so excited for this season with you on the field._

_I’m expecting great things from you._

_Keep up the amazing work!!! Keep that fire lit!_

_-Coach Anderson”_

Danielle scowled.

This was not how she envisioned her sophomore year. She didn’t want to do anything with lacrosse! She wanted to stay very, very far away from the stupid sport. It consumed her father’s life. It consumed her brother’s entire being. She was determined she wouldn’t feed into the Kavinsky legacy of lacrosse.

She was her own, free thinking person, and to do that, she couldn’t give her father the satisfaction of carrying the torch.

Yet, she was in a bind.

Either suck it up and play or risk marring her perfect record with a write-up, or worse, suspension.

Her pride was torn. On one hand, she hated the idea of playing. She hated the implications she would eventually become a pawn for her dad’s ambitions. She didn’t want to become what her brother had – prioritizing lacrosse over anything else because dad told him to.

One the other hand, she couldn’t risk staining her record. She really, really wanted to go to Stanford. She had the accelerated courses, the advanced STEM curriculum, perfect GPA, and glowing recommendations across the board. All that would be for naught if she was reprimanded for assault.

So, sucking it up was the only option she realistically had.

Coach Anderson would hold that over her head in exchange for another player in his ranks. Not just any player. _A Kavinsky_. Oliver’s little sister.

Not to say she wasn’t good – she was. She was _really good_.

Just because she was good at something didn’t mean she liked it!

She grew up with lacrosse. She couldn’t avoid it! She tried. It was futile! She remembered her dad forcing a stick in her hands around the same time she could walk. She threw the mother of all fits, the stick, too, and that was the end of it. She never touched one voluntarily again and hoped she would never, ever have to. She still couldn’t avoid the damn thing. Her father practically forced her to watch her brother’s games every Saturday morning until she turned twelve. He made her practice those same, stupid drills, too.  She definitely learned a thing or two during those wasted hours.

Ultimately, she decided she wasn’t going to lose herself in their obsession. That was their thing. Not hers.

All that went out the window when Coach Anderson gave her that bogus ultimatum.

 

_“It was an accident,” she lied. “I have shit aim.”_

_Why did she bother? He could see right through her._

_“Well, you and your ‘shit aim’ better be at try outs Saturday, 10am sharp” he crossed his arms when he sternly addressed her. “Or else,” his continued with an icy grey glare, “you and your ‘shit aim’ will be sent to principle with a write up Monday morning.”_

_“What?!” She exclaimed loudly._

_“Be there Saturday,” he raised a single finger, “or risk suspension. Your call, Kavinsky.”_

 

So she went to the stupid, freaking try outs.

At least her friends went along, too. She was grateful Riley offered her a ride. Then her dad wouldn’t know where she was going. She made up an excuse about studying at the coffee shop and changed her outfit in the locker room.  

She didn’t half-ass any of it. She may have hated lacrosse but she wasn’t going to look like an idiot with fifteen other girls watching her every move. She actually gave a damn and put in effort.

She did what he asked. She threw what he wanted. She caught what he needed. She intercepted, just like he told her to. She guarded the goal, just like he demanded. Maybe goalie wasn’t her strong suit but she managed to deflect most of the hits.

Truthfully, she preferred to be out of the field. She was tall. She knew how to use her height as an advantage and that’s exactly what she did. She had a sharp eye. She had no problem intercepting and very few could rival her reach. More so, no one could catch her. When she bolted, she _bolted_. Half the girls on the field couldn’t even cover her.

After two hours of rigorous activity, she thought she could wash her hands of it.

She went to the try out.

Deal is closed.

Of course, that’d be too naïve.

Coach Anderson flags her right before she leaves and hands her a form.

_A parent approval form._

 

_“You got the spot,” Anderson grinned,_

_“I don’t want the spot,” she slapped the form back into his clipboard. “I came to try outs. I fulfilled my end of the bargain.”_

_He frowned. “Either you take the spot,” he returned the paper, “or you can take a suspension. Your pick.”_


	3. The Power Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle would rather go broke than let her family know - and she could totally get away with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter summaries kind of suck and it's all been Danielle's POV so far but we'll get there. This is just some musings on how her life might be. Eventually her parents get more involved. Her younger brother certainly will. 
> 
> Bear with me! Thank you!!

Chapter 2:

The Practice

 

Nell didn’t mind practice so much as she thought.

Then again, she’d have to find something about to keep moral high.

She was stuck with it for a couple months.

 

One thing that eased her anxiety was the fact her father didn’t know. Or her mother, or little brother, or her two older siblings. They were all blissfully unaware of what she was truly doing an hour-and-a-half after school and two hours Saturday morning.

She said she was studying.

They believed her wholeheartedly

 

Nell covered all her bases:

One, she’d rather spend all of allowance paying off the second-hand equipment than ever ask for her father to pay for new ones. She wouldn’t ask. He didn’t have to know. She learned from her teammate Grace – and paid the $5 middle man fee, contingent on sale – that Allison Burnett played last year but had to quit due to a scheduling conflict. She was around the same height and weight as Nell, too. So, after getting Allison’s number, Nell haggled a decent price for the gloves, goggles, helmet, and stick.

She’d pay $10 a week until Winter Break – until the agreed value of $180 was paid off.

Additionally, she’d provide Allison immaculate Calculus I notes. Allison was just starting Thompson’s course. Nell aced it freshman year. She didn’t mind lending her notebook in the slightest if it meant dropping the original price by $25.

She wasn’t as fortunate about shoes. No one was her size. She had to buy a brand-new pair at the mall. She hated dipping into her savings but her habit of frugality over the years ensured she could cover the total. All $95 of it.

She spent another $45 on the uniform order and club fee.

She knew if she asked her dad, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that. He’d pull out all the stops. She’d be dressed head to toe in the best gear he could afford – and he could afford it. He spent just as money on Oliver’s gear over the years as he had on her sister’s baby Grand Piano.

What she would have to worry about what his incessantly hovering and demands. He’d pull the same helicopter crap on her as he did her older brother. Practice before and after dinner, forcing a special diet, studying videos, etch.

She would rather spend her hard-earned money keeping lacrosse to herself, and keeping her sanity, than ever let her father control her in any way, shape, or form.

 

Two, she already set up a routine to manage her time better.

On top of lacrosse, she had classes. Two of which – while her favorite – were also the most consuming. Physics and Calculus II came naturally to her but that didn’t change the fact she’d average two-and-a-half hours a day on homework, with those taking the most chuck of time. So, she had to make another sacrifice.

She woke two hours earlier than she usually did – around the same time her parents did. 4:30 was a grueling time. However, she found that she could finish at least 80% of her workload quietly at her desk. They never peaked inside her room but she could hear them shuffling in the hallway, making food coffee and toast downstairs, and when they finally left the driveway, she scurry down the stairs towing her duffle bag before her little brother woke up. She was walking the half-mile trip to school by 7ish, arriving just in time for a coffee meet up with her best friend, Mary.

Mary was absolutely mystified (and impressed) at Nell’s commitment to hide lacrosse from her parents. So many days she’d just look beat by the sheer lack of morning sleep. Mary would generously supply her with 4 extra sugar packets, just to make sure she could get through her first two classes. Luckily, Nell knew the secret to not completely killing her – a hefty, high protein breakfast, at least two sides of fruit, and high caffeine content followed by a 16oz consumption of water.

All of which she replenished out of her own pocket. They didn’t really have big family breakfasts any more. Only on Saturday and Sundays. (She had since been absent from the Saturday get together– practice started at 10AM). So long there was an unopened pack of sausage, bacon, and a fresh thing of milk, they wouldn’t suspect a thing. She usually restocked Thursday night, stopping by the grocery store.

Her secret was killing her budget.

Owen happened upon her one morning and questioned why she was making sausage links and scrambled eggs. One turn of the head and he saw the prink red duffle bag at the door with the lacrosse sticking out.

He could have extorted her for money to keep her secret.

Instead, he promised he wouldn’t tell if she’d prepare him some of her breakfast – every morning. It was actually nice, she found out, to share a wholesome breakfast with her younger brother. He understood why she was keeping it a secret when she explained her motivations. The ten-year-old even offered to help cover her tracks.

She hadn’t otherwise been close to her other siblings. To form something akin to a bond with her baby brother was a pleasant feeling.

By 7AM, the dishes were cleaned, put away, and she was ready to make the brisk trek. Owen wished her luck at practice, thanked her for the extra servings, and finished his bowl of frosted flaked – the boy was addicted and his stomach was a bottomless pit.

 

Thirdly, she hid the evidence.

Her room was immaculate. She was very orderly and clean. Her mother had no reason to peep inside and touch it up like she constantly had to do with Owen’s. She wasn’t taking any chance though.

She hid the duffle bag  behind her mass of pillows rather than under her bed. It made her bed look so much fuller anyways.

She’d do laundry right after practice, too.

First, she’d shower. She’d try to limit herself to 10 minutes.  After she effectively doused her odor, she’d throw on some pajamas, and prepare her usual after school routine.

She’d take her stained, sweaty clothes, socks, and towels into the laundry room but for safe measure, added everyone else’s load, too. Owen’s laundry, Mom’s scrubs, etch. While the 45-minute cycle completed, she usually could finish another class assignment. After both were done, she’d promptly fold and hang the clothes. She’d separate hers and bring it upstairs before anyone else could see.

She usually could finish all of that 10 to 15 minutes before her parents came home.

She called it the power hour.

Nell considered the power hour was the most critical period of the day.  From 5:15 when she came home and 6:30-45ish when her parents pulled up into the driveway, she cleared all the tell-tale signs of her little secret.

When Owen became an accomplice, he actually pitched in a little. Every little hand towel he folded helped. He’d even tow her bag up to her room, hide it behind her pillows just like she instructed, while she popped into the shower.

When her parents came home, both her and Owen’s homework was almost done, and laundry was non-existent. Who knew covering a secret would grant them kudos from mom?

Hell, all her helpful work earned her an allowance increase. An extra $5 a week.

Helping Owen with his homework was an added bonus and her mother laid off her about her incessantly studying. Who harps a kid for ‘studying’ too much? Apparently, her mother who thinks Nell doesn’t have a social life. (The same mother who boasts about Nell’s intense curriculum and honor).

Talk about irony.

 

Fourth, paperwork.

Her mother’s signature was the easiest the forge. They had similar handwriting.

She knew were the medical and insurance records were. They didn’t bother locking them up. She put them back where she found them after filling out all the needed information.


	4. A Coach's Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle always wanted to go to Stanford

**A Coach’s Promise**

Craig had a dilemma.

When he boasted about his players, he couldn’t help but remark on Danielle’s fire. She had grit, just like her brother. She was spunky and fierce and a force to be reckoned with. No one could touch her. What a score for Anderson to snag such a player.

He was met by surprise by her peers.

He very learned quickly the academic department had two very different Kavinsky kids.

His teachers labelled Oliver Kavinsky was tolerable, at best. He passed his classes. He had a few disruptions. He graduated. On contrary, the athletic department, especially lacrosse, regaled him as a hero. All he had to do to get them to state and he’d get into Denver with a full ride.

His sister however…

Danielle Kavinsky was a _genius._ The science department hoarded her as a poster child. The math department decreed her to be some sort of prodigy. She had the code to teacher lounge! Just so she could continue discussions with her teachers. Thompson and Corbin rained praises on her intelligence. Morris, her physics teacher, shot Anderson a foul look. Apparently, sports would hinder her studies. Why would he sabotage the girl’s glowing academic career for something as frivolous as a state championship?

That Cambridge prick could go shove a sock in it.

At the end of lunch, he realized Danielle didn’t even need to participate in sports for financial help.

She had a full ride to Harvard, courtesy of Thompson, and an easy admission to UCLA with grants, provided by Corbin’s board buddy. Someone else already mentioned her to Columbia and they replied they’d enthusiastically admit her into their programs.

He was already in competition with Harvard, UCLA, and Columbia. Duke, too! This kid could go literally anywhere. She could drop lacrosse any moment and she’d be fine. Write up or not (a bluff), she’d be fine. She had too many glowing recommendations and national accomplishments for any college to pass up.

Anderson had to sweeten the pot.

Apparently, he gathered, she didn’t want to go to any of those schools, much to the disappointment of her teachers.

_What?_

_Oh no. She had one in mind._

**Stanford.**

The very Stanford ranked no.2 in the Pac-12 standings.

He excused himself and had to call in a favor.

_“Lowell, buddy! How’s it been? How’s California?”_

 

He was grinning ear to ear when he walked onto the field.

Danielle was good as gold for Stanford.

So long she was as committed to keep her lacrosse streak as she had in her studies.

Lowell promised to put her name on the priority list, should she send the request. He had greenlit it after reviewing her academic records – she had sent those, along with half the science department – and the videos his college roommate sent.

_“She’s phenomenal. If she continues this streak to the end of season, I will personally deliver her priority listing. Thanks for giving me the heads up, Craig. Say hi to Trey for me, okay? I miss the kid. Hope he’s having a breeze in Villanova.”_

Anderson may also have mentioned she passed up Harvard and UCLA. She was looking into California – Berkeley and So Cal. For now, she at least put it off.

That got the gears going and the athletic department had rushed the request to head of admissions. He got the confirmation e-mail two days later.

 

“Kavinsky!” He beckoned back. She trotted off the shield, annoyed. She had been in the perfect position to catch the ball. Anderson knew she could’ve. There would be another time.

“Yeah, Coach?” She asked.

“I got the best Goddamn news for you,” he pulled her forward by the arm and held her into a side hug. “I have a guy in Stanford that I called on your behalf. I heard from the science-dweebs in the lounge you’re looking there.”

He could feel her shoulder’s slag and she looked up in bewilderment… and hopeful.

He pulled a rolled piece of paper from his pocket and put it in her palm.

“Read it and weep, Kavinsky,” he ruffled her hair.

She unrolled the printed e-mail and scanned over the words tentatively.

 

“ _Your athletic performance in addition to your academic accomplishments have given us great consideration…”_ she whispered, barely believing the words. “ _Should you continue these accomplishments through the next year…. We’d love to invite you to our campus and tour our state-of-the-art facilities. The athletic department highly prides your ethic and talent. We ardently believe you would make a wonderful addition to the women’s lacrosse varsity team. Should you choose to give us a chance, we would love to introduce you to what could be your new home and family. We look forward to seeing you in the future… Best of luck and well wishes, Randy Lowell, assistant coach._ ”

Her mouth felt dry and she couldn’t move.

Anderson did _real good_.

“Are you shitting me?” Danielle squeaked

“Poof is in the pudding,” he pointed the paper. “It’s yours. Keep up the good work and I’ll convince him to come out and see for himself. You got talent, Dani. Use it.”

She was so overcome with joy she hugged him. Boy, did she have a grip!

_“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”_

 

He hadn’t seen her so animated in practice before.

She even did a victory dance when she and Hayes made a flawless goal.

One run, two throws, three simultaneous screams of victory. Simple as that. No one was going to get the best of them.

“That’s what I’m talking about, bitch!” Hayes screamed from the arc.

“You know it!” Danielle returned loudly. She pounded her chest. “Stanford isn’t sleeping on me!”

“You best believe that!” Riley yelled, high-fiving Danielle as they returned to the center.

_“We got this! We got this!! State isn’t ready for us!”_

 

She was on her A-game.

She wasn’t letting up.

Like a dog, she had a bone, and she wasn’t going to give it up.

She now had the motivation to really invest in the game and it certainly showed.

 

He had her hooked and he already envision her dominating the midfield. Her, Hayes, Holden, Foley, Tinsley, Nolan, Ruiz, and Dunne would be plastered all over the NCAA page. They were a fearsome power group. Kavinsky prowling the midfield, making the fast break. Hayes hitting those corners. Holden wasn’t scared to cover. She wasn’t going to make it easy for her opponent. Dunne was one hell of a goalie. It was the dream team. Anderson couldn’t be any prouder.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle loves her new friends and teammates. She enjoys the game. #SpartansForState

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a taste of the game - shit gets real in the upcoming chapters.

By the third week, she felt confident.

She was a midfielder. She’d make the long hauls alongside Riley.

She enjoyed the rush. When the ball was airborne, Moore was the first to make a grab. Moore was just as capable as Tinsley, so it was a fifty-fifty chance whether Danielle would be attacking or defending.

Tinsley got the ball and Danielle was rushing. Tinsley posed a threat and Danielle had to dismantle it.

Riley was adjacent of her, covering Elise. Elise was trying to get a pass but Riley’s furious figure was making it too difficult.  They were matching step for step. Tinsley tried to pass to Ruiz but Danielle was quick to jump in. She raised her stick and intercepted the ball, gaining the advantage. She found herself crowded by Ruiz and Colombo but knew a certain trick.

Fake left – Ruiz fell for that one.

Zag to the right – Columbo moved ahead, closing the distance.

There, that was her opening.

When Columbo lunged forward, Danielle spun around her – and then she was clear to cross the threshold. She was fast on foot and she could see Riley open.

There – she got the fast break.

She readied her aim and shot to her left. Riley caught it and forwarded it to Elise. Elise was hounded by three players and returned the ball to Danielle. She couldn’t make the shot. Danielle passed to Anna. Anna had less coverage and could take the chance.

Dunne blocked it.

“Fuck,” Anna cursed. She and Natalie shook their heads. Dunne was just too good of goalie. She knew their tactics.  

 

Riley was a Goddamn scavenger.

Ruiz missed the pass. Riley darted ahead, speeding past her rival, and scooped it up. The girl could easily cover the 5 yards in a sprint. She spun around, avoiding coverage from a rushing. They had the advantage now. Riley returned the ball to Danielle who sprung it ahead – caught by Natalie on the far field corner who then bypassed Dunne. Colombo tried to intercept but Danielle had the height – jumping over Colombo’s line of reach to receive the ball. She still didn’t get over that adrenaline rush and jogged over to Riley’s bounding frame, sharing a heavy-handed high-five.

“Great coordination!” Anderson bellowed. “Love the hustle, Holden! That’s what I’m talking about!!”

 

Danielle was an aggressive midfielder. All midfielders were supposed to be aggressive but she took it a whole new level. She had her eye on the ball and made sure to keep it within reach. If a player was open – they weren’t open anymore. She’d lunge forward, obstructing the pass or intercepting it – where she’d then close the distance to make sure Healy could finish the next step.

She couldn’t be covered. That was her endgame. She wouldn’t let herself be blocked. She would weave back and forth, making it impossible for players to keep their eyes on the ball and her simultaneously. She wasn’t going to be corralled.

Beat them to the ball – that was her MO. If it was going places, she’d beat them to it. Like a fox in a chicken coop. She was going to snag her treat and bolt.

She liked to play hot potato, too. She never had the ball for too long. She already had a play in mind. Or two. Once she’d get the ball, she’d most definitely toss. She wouldn’t let herself become a running target.

And if she ever did, she rarely ever got caught.

She was an angry runner. She wasn’t going to run a smooth path. She’d weave, zag, spin, and reverse to avoid coverage. She wasn’t going to be closed in. She was too elusive.

She was high catcher, too. If you threw high enough, she’d get it. That was her advantage. When it was mid-flight, she could snag it from the sky. She was the queen of _interceptions_.

“Nell’s netted it!” Riley exclaimed. It became a rallying cry. There wasn’t a practice when she didn’t hear the chant. _“Net it down, Nell! Net it down!”_ It was a euphoric feeling.

“Take it home, Healy!” Danielle screamed. Elise shot the ball just as quick as she caught it, flinging it from the right. It bounced between Dunne’s legs and into the goal.

“YES!” They cried. The girls rushed into a huddle, knocking heads and slapping sticks.

 

They became a tight knit quad.  

Danielle “ _Net it down, Nell_ ” Kavinsky.

Riley “ _Rush it_ ” Holden.

Grace “ _Grab-and-Go_ ” Nolan.

Natalie “ _Hit ‘em’_ ” Hayes.

Elise “ _Bring it Home_ ” Healy or “ **Healy Brings it Home**!” Danielle preferred on her motivational poster.

When they weren’t on opposing teams during practice, Molly Dunne was included in their huddle. She was impervious to most attacks and could definitely hold her own. Grace coined the term “ _Molly with the Moves_ ” but they shortened it to “Dunne-Dog”. When she was guarding the goal, she wasn’t giving any mercy.

Anna didn’t have a phrase yet until Natalie was exasperated with Anna’s unrelenting coverage. “Fuck, Foley!” She cried angrily. It became a running joke. Anna “ _Fuck_ ” Foley. Only a select people were allowed to utter it. Alternatively, they laughed whenever she did some weird but successful stunt. _“What the Fuck, Foley?”_  soon became a daily occurrence.

They even made their own handshake.

By the end of the month, they were inseparable. They knew their moves and could coordinate like a pod of killer whales. (That was their group chat name, too).

Riley Holden and Danielle were hardened midfielders. They could carry the distance and count on being ones to take back the ball. Riley would rush the ball while Danielle whipped the ball to the next best player, not one to delay a score. Danielle would snag airborne balls as a specialty and Riley would gun it for those that went astray.

They’d get the ball to the next step.

Elise Healy the third man. She was furthest from the net in the row, therefore the easiest to pass to. She also had dead accuracy and a mean side swing.

Usually, when they set up practice, Anna Foley was almost always defense. She wasn’t going to let up. When she wasn’t and on the same side as the usual pod, she’d place second home. She could score just as many shot as Nat, who played first. Anna was a trickster – she’d fake one lunge, another, and then hit when least expected. Thus, ‘ _What the Fuck, Foley’_ came to be. That, and she wasn’t going to leave you the fuck alone.

Natalie “Nattie” or “Nat” Hayes was first home, meaning she was the one that was going to be the one to take the corner shot – and she would nine out of ten times. She and Elise would be the deadly duo – with both in position, someone was going get the ball, and one of the two were going to hit it in. If Elise couldn’t make it, Nat was ready to pull through.

            Grace Nolan often played opposite of them. She was one hell of a defense. She was the one that gave the girls the most grief – basically, giving them just as much as she gave – and the challenge was welcomed. She was like Riley – she could grab a ball at the first chance and _go_. Her long legs could carry her across the field at a speed that would give Riley a run for her money. Danielle was one of the few people to keep up with her but running straight was not Danielle’s style.

            The other players were just as good: _Maria Ruiz_ , a tenacious defender and equally a tenacious attacker; _Brynne Tinsley_ , Ruiz’s right-hand woman and one hell of a shot – if she got it, well, if someone didn’t block it right away, it was _gone_. _Sonya Colombo_ was a decent defense but she was better suited by the goal – her aim was wicked sharp and she close behind Elise in goal records; _Davina Moore_ was the second tallest girl in the team and had no problem snagging passes and throwing high. Danielle admired her opportunistic nature. They often bumped hips after a successful play, whether or not they’d be on the same team. When someone’s good, you have to give them credit.  

 

            They had plenty of huddles and breaks. One before practice, one after drills, and one after a play when Anderson was assessing.

It was then their personalities came to play.

Elise, Anna, and Riley were hot-blooded Irish ladies. Riley had beautiful red ringlets while Elise had the stoic face and sharp cheekbones. She and Anna were the only blondes on in the Pod. Elise had darkest of green eyes. Anna had the brightest of blues.  Elise and Riley knew each other from their childhood Irish dance team and liked to show off their footwork to the rest of the team. Foley soon joined their rank as she, took, a few classes from another dance studio, and the trio would amaze everyone with how fast they could tap their toes. Irish music played loudly from a Bluetooth speaker and Shipping Up to Boston became a favorite rallying cry. It earned a new meaning when Anna announced Boston College was scouting her – and with her grades and talent – it was a no brainer she’d be an _Eagle_.

Danielle liked to dance and Nat was her favorite partner. They shared the same taste in music and would often goof around on the sidelines kicking it. They were the only ones to really get the newest dance moves and liked to improvise, too. Nat had no qualms twerking while Danielle resigned to the fact she had no ass to do such a thing. Chance the Rapper was another familiar voice playing on the sidelines. Natalie was dead set on University of Chicago where most her family had situated, much like Danielle – though for very different reasons. They shared the same interest in science but deviated after that – Natalie wanted to go into psychology and children studies while Danielle could only envision herself in the operating room, hands deep in someone’s chest cavity.

Grace was a woman of few words but her expressions were gold. She was the shorter of the girls but that didn’t hinder her. She lead by action and she wasn’t scared of shit. She was the one to call out foolery and not give a damn if she made someone look bad. Be better, she always said. _You can always better!_ She was intense about the sport and it truly showed how dedicated she was. She aspired to go to Penn – a family legacy – and nothing would deter her. Danielle admired the determination. They paired together when doing drills. Grace would give her the edge she needed and vice versa.

Davina was like that, too. She was intense. She wasn’t there for tom-foolery. She radiated confidence and focus. She was the one leading the drills sometimes. She was a senior and already received her scholarship from Cornell.

Molly brought the jokes – she was hilarious. She’d be the one to set the tone for the day after a funny story. She had too many brothers and the shenanigans that came from their bullshit would stick with the team for the rest of the week, in the best way.

Brynne had too many sisters and would play the role of big sister for many of the new girls. She was the mother hen and would be the one to take a girl aside if she was upset. Danielle had been subject to a couple of those. Brynne understood her situation more than most people and made sure to check up on her ever week. Brynne was the most intuitive and empathetic, Danielle believed.

Maria and Sonya were best friends since third grade, neighbors since eighth grade, much to their excitement, and were sisters in every way possible shy of blood. They came from traditional Puerto Rican families and would share dishes every Friday. Danielle loved Maria’s tamales – they were the thing of dreams. Nat was a sucker for Sonya’s homemade churros.

Maria talked fast – and often spoke Spanish over English. She spoke it so much; half the team understood words she said. Maria made tri-annual trips to visit her relatives in PR. Maria was unapologetically Bronx, too, and spoke with the heavy accent. She always sounded so aggressive but everyone knew she didn’t mean much by it. Maria locked long, black hair, too, that rivalled Danielle’s length before Danielle made the choice to cut it to her shoulders.

Sonya was the opposite. Her family was of Puerto Rican decent but hadn’t been there personally. while Sonya cut hers short, often tying it into a cute bob behind her head. Sonya was softer, growing up in Queens for half her life.

 

“Look at them,” Anderson beckoned. His assistant, Mark, did just that.

“Yeah, they’re great,” Mark nodded.

“Not just great, Mark,” Anderson grinned. “They are the dream team.”

“Okay, see – Holden and Kavinsky against Ruiz and Moore – that there is the best of the best. Send any one of them on the field, you’re in good hands. Kavinsky knows where to go – she’s snagging the ball before you realize what just happened. She’s _fast,_ ” Anderson snapped his fingers, “and Moore isn’t too far behind. Those two bring out the best in the other. Ruiz is brutal. She’s not going to give you a chance. She’s all in the face. She’s not going anywhere. Holden has hustle – she’s not letting up. She’s always on the front line, ready to dispatch. She had endless energy. The perfect pair. I could interchange any of them and have the advantage. God, I got lucky this season.”

“Healy is sharp with her shot. She doesn’t miss. I like that a lot. She doesn’t hesitate. Hayes and Foley are slick. They can go where no one thinks to go. They are predatory, like a pack of wolves. If one can’t get it, the other will. It’s like insurance – the best fucking insurance I’ve seen this season. The communication is on point, too. I haven’t seen anything of this scale before. It’s like they are telepathically linked. Colombo is like a trebuchet with the stick – that shit _flies_.”

“Dunne doesn’t make it easy for them. If they can bypass Dunne, they won’t have a problem this upcoming game. Dunne is the crème de la crème of goalkeepers. I might just cry when she leaves next year for Tallahassee. They’re going to be lucky to have her.”

“We have a pretty good line up,” Mark agreed. “You know they call themselves the Pod, right? I like the sound of it.

“Pod?”

“Like orcas. Killer Whales. A group of killer whales are called Pods.”

“Huh, that does have a ring to it.”

“They are brutal in the wild. Known to take down sharks and terrorize seals. I think the name fits for this group.”

Anderson nodded, brows raised in musing. That did sound about right.

Hayes got in a shot between Dunne’s legs and she leapt into Healy’s arms, celebrating the goal. Foley joined the huddle, tilting the group onto the grass.

Holden and Kavinsky lunged forward, topping the trio with their weight. Moore and Tinsley shrugged and watched the shenanigans ensue with amusement.


	6. Where Credit is Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle's little brother, Owen, reflects on his sister's personality change.

Owen started to come to practice. His friend Jake had an older brother playing football and he offered to carpool.

Owen recognized her older sister right way. She was really fast. She zoomed from one end to the other. He remembered Ollie’s games – he was stationed on half of the field. Danielle wasn’t. She was going back and forth. She didn’t seem to tire.

Coach Anderson recognized him from the bleachers and offered a prime seat at the sidelines. They made small talk and Anderson mentioned he’d hope Owen consider taking up lacrosse, too. The Kavinsky kids had talent.

Owen didn’t say he and Danielle agreed on the same thing – Dad could be overzealous. Owen nodded and continued to watch his sister dominate the field. She was so excited, yelling, and cheering. He had never seen her so pumped before. She’d usually just hoard herself in her room and study for hours at end. It was nice to see Danielle outside her bedroom and doing something she undoubtedly loved.

She had told him over breakfast Stanford was interested in her. She liked lacrosse before when she made friends – Riley, Elise, Natalie, and Anna came over once to pick her up. He liked them a lot. They were nice. They let him ride in Anna’s big truck. When Stanford sent her an e-mail, she was over the moon, and was excited to continue lacrosse.

Owen wondered if she would keep it a secret forever but that was something she had to figure out herself. For now, she was having a great time, and didn’t seem to mind the rigorous activity.

It was going to get her to Stanford.

She couldn’t be anymore enthusiastic.

She gave her all and it was pretty obvious she wasn’t holding back.

When Danielle realized he was there, she was surprised, but not angry. She was actually happy to see him there.

He became an honorary member of the girl’s lacrosse team. Anna would give them rides. He’s sneak some of Danielle’s snacks (she’d always pack extra now that he attended practice, too). He and Nat would have a dance off during breaks. She had a little brother his age. They got along at school when he told Chris their sisters played together. He liked when Nat taught him some new tricks. Riley would race him up and down the field.

He wished they came to the house more. He liked their company.

But then that would expose Danielle.

So he settled with what he could.

 

Sometimes he’d take videos of her and make a compilation on his computer, so when she looked back after the season, he could save all the highlights. He liked taking videos. He liked working with computers. He loved his sister. It was a perfect combination.

Danielle was more outgoing and talkative. He started to see her more. She would help him with his math after school and talk about nothing. Ollie and Katie were always busy with their hobbies. With them away at college, Owen thought he’d be lonelier than ever. But Danielle filled the void. Owen like the fact Danielle was willing to share time and hobbies.

He was so proud of his sister.

He had her saved on his phone. She was smiling next to him, dressed in her black-and-gold jersey.

He always looked up to Owen but now, he was certain Danielle was his favorite sibling. He was protective her, especially when Mom asked too many questions. Danielle didn’t like when their parents pried. He remember when Ollie told them she had a girlfriend. She was so upset. She didn’t like when people talk about her without her permission. She’d let someone in when she wanted to.

She could see that.

She was so open with her friends.

She was so straight forward and unapologetic. They knew what she was about. They knew she was wicked smart. They were witness to her epic dance moves. Owen never seen her dance before. She was really good.

Why wasn’t she like that at home?

He knew the answer to that. She already told him. Many times.

She didn’t want Mom or Dad to think they knew her. Because if they did, they’d think they had something on her. That they could say things on her behalf. She didn’t like that – at all. She was her own person and she’d like to keep it that way. The only person to make decisions for her – _was her_.

Danielle had always been independent. Owen like that – a lot. He wanted to be like her. She wouldn’t wait for anyone or be held back. Rules didn’t apply to her. She figured it out without depending on someone else.

Mom and Dad didn’t. They tried to help her but she always took care of it on her own. It frustrated them. Dad especially. They barely spoke. Dad tried to be more vocal than ever since Katie and Ollie went to college. The silence and unreciprocated conversations were louder than ever.

_“Dad’s trying.”_

_“Owen, appreciate the fact he gives a damn about you.”_

_“What does that mean?”_

_“He didn’t acknowledge me until Katie and Ollie left. When they were around, I was practically invisible. I’m not going to bend my back backwards just to get a second of his attention. I’m just a back-up. You? You guys have all the time in the world. Of course, he’s going to spend time with you. You need him still. I don’t.”_

_“You’ll always need, Dad.”_

_“Once, maybe, when I was a baby. I grew up quick, Owen. I had to. Mom and Dad were too busy with the twins and then you. I was just forgotten somewhere in the chaos. I had to figure it out on my own. I did that. I’ll be fine. I made it this far without them.”_

_“Aren’t you sad?”_

_“I’m not sad, Owen. I was, a long time ago. I’m not anymore. Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to get you anywhere in life. If anything, I’m mad. I’m mad that I never got a chance to be appreciated and now that I’m at this place, where my friends and teachers tell me I’m going somewhere, which I know because I worked my ass off to be here, I’m constantly reminded of all the times I had to do it myself. I got myself here. All on my own. I won’t let anyone take credit for it, especially Dad who is missing his favorite girl. I’m not Katie’s replacement and I won’t be treated as such.”_

_“Oh.”_

 

Owen could read behind the lines. No matter how many time Danielle assured him she was okay, Owen could still see the hurt behind her words. She was lonely. She felt abandoned.

Owen’s protective instincts skyrocketed and he made sure to keep her company every night. She welcomed his presence and they spend the night talking. She needed it.

He was happy she let him in. They both benefited from it.

She used to be so bitter and quiet.

That was all a front.

She was really bubbly and patient and he liked that didn’t judge him when he couldn’t understand a problem.

 

When Mom asked about their budding new relationship, Owen didn’t let on much.

Danielle wanted her privacy. Owen wasn’t going to talk about her without permission.

“She helps me with math,” was all he omitted.

Mom was disappointed she wasn’t given more information.


	7. A Mother's Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara Jean's curiosity has disastrous results.

A Mother’s Intuition

Lara Jean knew something was up.

Danielle was more helpful than usual. Dishes and laundry were always cleared up and clean the next day. She’d been keeping this up for a month.

She’d replace food. Half-eaten packs of sausages links would suddenly be full and unopened. Milk was constantly brand new. Eggs weren’t disappearing – they were adding!

She and Owen were getting along splendidly. They did homework together before Lara Jean and Peter got home. He went to Danielle for help if he had a question, confusing his parents, but also giving them reason to celebrate. He was finally getting his assignments done and understanding math. Danielle’s patience was unparalleled to theirs. Peter didn’t know a thing about math and Lara Jean could only deal with Owen’s quick temper for so long.

She got up early enough that Lara Jean could see her lamp light seep out from under the door. She knocked once and Danielle pretended her alarm clock went off early. She went to bed earlier the night before, utterly exhausted. Since then, Lara Jean had observed Danielle was purposely up at the same time they were.

Owen let it slip the two have breakfast each morning. “I like my eggs scrambled, the way Nell does them,” he complained. He showed his mother how to fold them into a tortilla and cutting the sausages into bits, finishing with tobacco sauce and some shredded cheese. “See? Best breakfast burrito ever,” he muffled with a full mouth.

When asked why Danielle was up so early and making breakfast, Owen got quiet, and moved on to his  obsession: The New York Yankees.

Any other parent would be psyched but any dramatic change in her child warranted suspicion.

She was happier. Exhausted, maybe, but she was happier. She was more talkative than usual. At dinner, she talked about her classes. Not just a “got an A in chem” but actual discussions. Lara Jean could see Danielle’s passion for chemistry and explained to Owen the purpose of proteins and how they could be manipulated.

Owen was interested. He was more interested in her knowledge of math, asking if she could help him with algebra problems.

“Sure, dude,” she promised. “After dinner. I’ll show you how to do it.”

“Thanks, Nell!”

So, she meddled.

What was a mother to do when her daughter wouldn’t open up?

Danielle was oblivious. She was too busy “studying” Saturday morning to know her mother was shuffling through drawers and looking under her bed. Nothing. Just books and papers. Nothing out of the ordinary. Lara Jean huffed. Something was up. It had to be.

She accidently disrupted Danielle’s bed in her search and reached over to straighten the sheets and fluff the pillows. Then she realized there was something behind them.

Under the mountain of pillows, a single red duffle bag stuck out like a sore thumb against the navy-blue bedspread.

She zipped it open, revealing familiar objects.

Gloves. Deodorant. Spray. Mouth guard. Change of clothes. Lacrosse balls. String replacements. Tape. Headphones. A helmet. A baby blue lacrosse stick with her initials written in sharpie at the handle. Recently cleaned cleats. Extra pair of socks. Hair binders and thick headbands. A miniature first aid kit. A game jersey perfectly preserved in plastic at the very bottom.

**KAVINSKY**

**Number #05**

Of all the irony in the world…

She distinctly remembered her daughter loathing the sport.

Yet, the proof before her contradicted everything she knew.

_Why would she hide that from them?_

She answered her own question just as quickly.

What _didn’t_ she hide from them, was the better question.

 

Danielle realized her things were disturbed when Lara Jean mused over the dinner table at her “latest discovery in Nell’s room”. Lara Jean was full of mirth. Peter was going to love this surprise. It was better if it came out of Danielle’s mouth than from Lara Jean’s.

Danielle stopped eating her stir fry and stared, agape.

“Would you like to share with us what you’ve been _really_ doing this month?” Her mother teased, mouth pushing upwards in a grin.

Owen looked horrified and stared at his sister with something – remorse? He reached over the table to grab her hand

Danielle was frozen stiff. Her eyes glazed over with something. Anger, Lara Jean recognized. She was _angry_.

“No, no,” Danielle bit harshly, “since it’s your discovery, how about you share it?” Her words were sharp. “God forbid I can keep something to myself,” she scowled, pushing backwards against the table. Her chair scratched against the floor and nearly tipped over when she stood up hastily. Her plate was half-full and she dumped it in the trash. “No, no, of course not! You just have to meddle in my business. Boundaries don’t exist, do they??” She shrugged theatrically. “Feel free to share with Dad! I’m sure he’d be so freaking proud!” she spat.

“Danielle, you will not talk to your mother in that tone,” Peter raised his voice.

“Fix your tone with me, young lady,” Lara Jean snapped.

“No, I won’t,” Danielle insisted. She was growing hotter by the minute and her posture was stiff. “There’s a reason why I don’t tell you things. Instead of respecting my privacy, you go poking around and sharing my business like its yours. It’s not! I’ll tell you shit when I want to tell you shit!” She was shouting now.

She smashed the plate on the counter, breaking into little pieces. Whether she did it unintentionally or not, it didn’t matter anymore.

 “FUCK!” she yelled, wincing when the shards struck her legs. Blood was shed and she wiped it up with a hand, now bloodied. “Fuck this!”

“ _Danielle!_ ” Her parents roared.

“You’ve been lying to us for a month,” her mother hotly returned. She narrowed her eyes at her defiant daughter. “You can’t expect me not to investigate!”

Her mother made a move towards her but Danielle was not having it. She glared at her mother and her eyes were so intense that Lara Jean reared back, scared.

“I hate you so much right now,” she huffed. She was on the verge of tears and her voice began to crack. She put her hands up, as if projecting a forcefield. She pursed her lips in a scowl and shook her head. “You just… you can’t let it go. You have to have control. You can’t just let me do something without a say.”

“Phone,” Peter ordered tersely. “Now.”

“Have it,” she pulled it out. “I’m done with you guys.”

“Don’t talk to me that way,” Lara Jean growled, stretching out her hand.

She moved forward, slapping it in her palm hard. She visibly winced and nearly dropped the device.

“Danielle!” Peter reared up when Lara Jean hissed.

“I’m going for a walk,” Danielle grabbed her coat and out the door. When Peter made a dash to follow, she was already out a sight, and disappeared into the darkness. He looked behind him to see spots of blood trailing behind them. She must have really cut herself.

 “Mom,” Owen whined. “Why would you do that?”

His eyes were disappointed.

“Do what? I just wanted her to share the good news!” Lara Jean defended. She could feel her heart clench and her eyes sting. “Why would that make me the bad guy?”

Owen shook his head and did the same, pouring his leftover carrots in the trash.

“It wasn’t your news to share,” Owen replied quietly.

_Owen knew?_

Lara Jean registered the words and recoiled, disappointed in herself. Owen was absolutely right.

It wasn’t her news to share and judging by Danielle’s reaction, she had a reason.

_Why didn’t she tell them?_

_Would she ever tell them anything again?_

 

 


	8. The Playground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fallout

It was cold. She was cold. Kind of. Her leg felt really warm.

Danielle retreated to her favorite haunt – the dilapidated playground the neighborhood forgot existed. It was surrounded by a small patch of woods and the only ring that remained of it’s glory days was two, rusty swings and an inoperable roundabout.

It was too dark to see anything but she knew her way through the cracked pavement

She wiped off the dewy seat with her sleeve and started to swing slowly.

She used to come here all the time. No one paid attention to where she was going. No one was home during the piano recitals or games. She’d retreat to the creepy old playset no one knew existed and forget herself for an hour.

With each swing, the rusted chain squeaked.

 

Her feet were icy cold. She shouldn’t have left the house with no shoes. The grass with still wet and the chilly October air wasn’t helping.

She stopped momentarily to feel her legs and pick out glass shards. She tossed them in a broke flower pot that was next to a shed just along the woodland border.

Her legs didn’t hurt like she though. It was all superficial. They were coated with blood though. Most of it was dried by now.

The sand was cold and solid under her soles.

She drew pictures with her toes.

 

She couldn’t wait to leave.

She just had two more years and she’d be free. Stanford bound. Worst case, she’d get into UCLA or USC. Anywhere but New York. Preferably on the opposite coast. She couldn’t stand it. She wanted to be seen. She wanted to be her own person. She couldn’t do that in everyone else’s shadow.

She was the creator of her destiny and she was going to see it through.

 

Being angry was exhausting.

She was besides herself. Drained completely. She hadn’t had an explosion of that magnitude for a long, long time. Like the time Ollie outed her. She remembered feeling so violated and robbed. He took that from her. He thought it was something to laughed over, teasing her about Leah in the way he teased Katie about Mitch. She didn’t say anything. She just shut down. The atmosphere had completely changed and she couldn’t bring herself to return any of his jabs.

She took to his lacrosse stick that night and bent it. 

From what she knew, Ollie never told on her. He said he broke it during practice, looking specifically at her. She didn’t turn to face him.

He tried to apologize the next morning but Danielle couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes or forgive him. She left him alone in the kitchen, refusing to talk further. They hadn’t spoke since freshman year. She didn’t even come out to see him leave for Denver. She was conveniently gone – at Mary’s house for lunch. They watched some awful romcom and laughed over Mrs. Winslow’s college stories.

He did something she couldn’t forgive and it hurt her still.

 

If there was a time to cry, it was now. Twelve something at night with no one around.

Yet she was too exhausted to shed tears.

She just felt like shit and wanted to curl up.

 

As if life itself decided, ‘ _you need a pick-me-up’_ Danielle found herself not alone.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Not at all,” Danielle replied, smiling.

“How are you not cold?” Mary exclaimed.

Her best friend made herself comfortable on the swing.

“I am,” Danielle shrugged, “but I can deal. How’d you find me?”

“You dad called me. Asked if you were at my house. _As if_ you could walk all the way to downtown.” Mary shot her a dry look.

“He’s not very bright,” Nell chuckled.

“Anyways, I suspected you’d be here. You always ask me to pick you up at the parking lot. I didn’t tell him that obviously.” Mary pushed herself back, stretching her legs and digging her heel into the sand. “I told him to just let you walk it off. You’ll come back eventually. You hate the cold.”

“You’re the real MVP,” Danielle held out a fist. Mary bumped it with her.

“Your leg is fucked up,” Mary gauged the wound.

“I narrowly escaped Jason Voorhees,” Danielle winked.

“Funny,” Mary rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help grinning at Danielle’s cool humor.

“So, bad fight, huh?”

“I may have escalated it,” Danielle admitted. She sighed and recapped the night’s events.

 

“So your mom snooped, found out your secret, and was going to make you expose it to everyone at dinner,” Mary summarized.

“Exactly!” Danielle’s arms flared up. “See? So simple. I love that about you. No grey area. Just black-and-white, straight to the point. You’re so refreshing. I love you, bestie.”

“Remind me why you were going to keep it a secret in the first place again,” Mary asked.

“Because I don’t want my parents to be involved with things I like,” Danielle knitted her brows. “We’ve been over this.” Danielle shifted slightly, stopping abruptly. “Okay, so originally, it was because my dad is uber overzealous and lacrosse is his legacy. I didn’t want to become his latest pawn. Then, when I started to really like lacrosse, I didn’t want it spoiled. It was my thing. I couldn’t afford for anyone to ruin it. Especially when it’s going to get me to Stanford.”

“How would they spoil it?”

“By forcing me to share it. I’d have to endure the stupid photos, the family-bragging, the unsolicited opinions of what I should or shouldn’t do… I’d do all the work and they’d expect half the credit. I can’t stand that shit. I want something to be mine. Mine alone. I don’t want people leeching off things I love.”

“There’s more to it,” Mary suspected. “I know you’ve always felt that way. You hate your older sister. You can’t stand your older brother since he outed you. You want nothing to do with your dad. You’re ‘meh’ at best with your mom but I think she’s on your major shit list now after tonight. You pretty much burned all your familial bridges. This was all established right when I met you. So, there had to have been something that sparked that resentment. A moment, maybe.”

There was.

She squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists.

In reflection, it seemed so petty, but to her, it was a defining moment. A heartbreak that scarred horribly. Her heart still clenched and she wanted nothing more than a hug. Mary swung closer to her and held her hand.

She knew her friend was in pain. You don’t spend six years with someone and not recognize when they are hurting.

“There was a science fair in fourth grade. You wouldn’t have been there because you didn’t transfer yet. I – okay – I started to work with my biology teacher after school every day. It was my solace. Dad was too involved with Ollie’s games and then he’d drive to the city to oversee Katie’s piano lessons. Mom was working her usual hours. Owen was at daycare. I came home and nobody would be there. I couldn’t stand it. When they did get home, it all about Ollie and Katie. I wanted to scream.

I was doing great in science and Mr. Hardesty was really supportive. He’d tell me all the time I was so bright and book-smart. He make little marks on my paper complimenting me. Good stuff. Genuine stuff. Like he took time to read it. I needed that reassurance. I noticed he’d always stay late grading papers and whatnot because I’d take my time to leave and he’d still be at his office when I passed his door. I made myself at home and we had these awesome discussions. He was so passionate about biology and I wanted to impress him so badly, I asked if he’d help me with a project for the science fair.

He took me up on the offer and we spent at least an hour after school each day making this gorgeous poster about the respiratory system. I spent all my time researching and I’d come to class with pages and pages of notes to add. I was really excited and he didn’t once tell me I was overdoing it. He was always backing me up and told me I was doing amazing things! I needed so badly to hear that! He reminded me I could achieve something and that I could be recognized!!  

We set up the booth and I remember seeing my name underneath his on the top corner. I thought that was the best feeling in the world. I co-wrote something! I made something! I felt so proud of myself. He kept telling me I was going to do bigger and greater things. I bottled that feeling for the future and I continue to think of him whenever I doubt myself. He believed in me and made me see my own potential. I was nine. I needed that encouragement so desperately.

Everyone who visited the booth told me I did a fantastic job. He praised me the entire time. People commended me for my thorough work and eye for detail. I won the first-place ribbon! He asked me if he could borrow it for a bit, just so he could frame it. He asked me to autograph it, so when I went on to bigger and better things, he’d have a keepsake of the first of my _many_ awards. He believed I’d win so many more,” she bit her trembling lip.

“He had more pride in me than I ever felt from my own family.”

She had already broken down. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and tried to swallow the next sob. She shook in the swing, trembling with tears streaming down her cheeks. Mary clutched her hand and let her continue at her own pace.

“I waited for my parents to visit. I was so eager to show off what I did.” Her weak smile fell into a deep-set frown. “They never showed. I waited until they closed up the gym and walked home. They forgot all about it. Katie wanted ice cream after her piano practice, so that’s what they did. While I’m waiting to prove to them I could do something, they decided to go uptown to Katie’s favorite creamery and get her chocolate fudge with brownie bits. Ollie had his strawberry crunch. She was still finishing it up when I opened the door. She was so smug. Dad apologized because he didn’t bring me any. As if he didn’t completely forget about my booth.

I was so grateful Mr. Hardesty took the poster with him. That way they wouldn’t ever know what they missed. I decided on that day, they’d never get to share my success.” Danielle pointed firmly.

“If they can’t even show up to a nine-year-old’s booth at a stupid science fair, why they hell should they bask in my national achievements? That was my first success and they spoiled it. I couldn’t revel in my victory because they couldn’t care to show up. I would never, ever let myself feel that again. I made a promise to myself: they will never get that privilege again. I shut them out. All my accomplishments – I could enjoy them by myself. I wouldn’t ever have to risk spoiling my achievements with thoughts of doubt.”

“I’m sorry,” Mary croaked. Seeing Danielle – strong, assertive, and the epitome of confidence – dwindle to a heap of ugly sobs was a sight she wouldn’t shake for a while. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” Danielle straightened up. “That moment defined me for the better. I’m not begging for validation like Katie,” she sneered. “I don’t need an audience to praise me for some stupid shot,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m nationally recognized. Colleges want me – Harvard wants me, enough to offer a full ride. _UCLA! Columbia! Cornell! Duke! MIT!_ I  get e-mails from admission offices inquiring whether or not I’d be interested in some of these exclusive colleges. _They come to me!_ If I asked them to jump, they’d say how high!

I have people batting for me and the recommendations never stop! That feeling is addicting! To know you’re practically indispensable because you built yourself to be. I get to make the calls now. I mended myself to be Stanford worthy and I’m not sabotaging that. You know how long I’ve yearned to be Stanford material!”

“Why Stanford?” Mary poked. “I know you told me but I need you to tell me again.”

“Because it’s the farthest college I could think of,” Danielle mused. “It’s the most selective. If they want me, I’m the 5% that made it. That’s a damn good percentage. Third, it was the school Mr. Hardesty had the highest regard for. He said I could be Stanford material and that shit stuck. I’m not letting him down. The day he died, I promised I would make his words a reality. It’s the best thing I could do for both of us.”

“Do you feel better?” Mary asked.

“So much better,” she sniffed. “It reminded me what I’m about and why I’m not going to let this hold me back. I’m destined for greater things and I’ll be damned if someone spoils it for me again.”

“That’s the Danielle I know and love,” Mary pulled her into a hug. “I also hate how tall you are.”

“You gotta deal with it, Winslow,” Danielle shook with laughter. “Thank you,” she mumbled into her shoulder. “You’re the best friend any girl could ask for. God, I love you so much.”

“The moment you told Hannah Smidt to pull her botched-nose-job out of our business was the moment I was yours, Danielle,” Mary grinned.

The girls erupted into hearty laughter and continued to embrace for some time.

“I gotta get you home,” Mary promised. “I told your dad I’d look around. Can’t fall back on my promise.”

“So dutiful,” Danielle shook her head. “Alright, let’s bring the dead-woman-walking to the executioner’s block.”

“No problem,” Mary winked. “I’ll take my payment in your physics notes.”

“I’ll get them to you hot off the press tomorrow,” Danielle smiled.

 

Danielle was surprised and equally proud of how bravely she entered the front door. Mary gave her encouraging last words, reminder her of what she embodies, and Danielle embraced her new resolve.  

She had eliminated all traces of her tears and hung up her coat casually.

Both her parents sprung forward from the couch. Behind them, the clock read the time – she had been out for 2 hours. Her feet sure felt like it. They were numb and she wanted nothing more than to wrap them in layers of socks.

“You can’t just run off like that!” Lara Jean yelled. Her voice would give way any minute now.

“Oh, just like how you ‘can’t’ announce things on my behalf? But you did,” Danielle answered coldly. Her voice was detached and low. She pointed a finger at her mother. “I see where Ollie gets it from.”

“What are you – Oh, sweetheart, it’s not like that,” Lara Jean’s face contorted into regret. She knew immediately of what Danielle was referring to – the dinner where Oliver announced Danielle had a girlfriend. They never had a bond to begin with but since that dinner, the siblings were practically strangers. No matter how many times Ollie tried to apologize, Danielle refused to acknowledge him. 

“Oh, it’s exactly like that,” Danielle stated. Her eyes were like steel, cold and unmoved.

“We need to talk about this,” Peter intervened. His voice was softer now.

“No, we don’t because if I don’t talk to you, you’ll still find out something anyways. You’re like bloodhounds – you can’t stop yourselves. So might as well let you have your way. Don’t feed me false hope.” Danielle shook her head. She was stiff and on the defense. Her voice was assertive. “I will tell you this. I’ll continue lacrosse because it’s my one-way ticket to Stanford. I will get a grant to cover those expenses. I made myself practically indispensable for them to not compensate me. When I get there, I won’t be coming back here. That’s what I’m telling you and I’ll take whatever punishment you have for me.”

Just like that – Danielle felt vindicated. She looked at either parent and held her head high. How long had she wished to drop those words? Longer than she liked.

She paved her own path and she was going to see it through. She grown to like lacrosse and the opportunity it offered. She’d be damned if she’d let them ruin it for her.

She turned to the stairs and retreated to her room, intercepting Owen on the way.

He sat up hastily and hugged her.

She didn’t know she need it but, despite her current feelings, she had nothing against her baby brother and welcomed his comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sis,” Owen mumbled. He had been crying.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault,” she assured. She ruffled his hair. “Hey, can you get some bandages from the bathroom and come to my room? We can talk. I have Oreos.”

He nodded eagerly and did as she asked. He brought more than needed but she appreciated the gesture. They walked into her room and closed the door promptly.

While she wiped off dried blood, Owen prepared her strips.

“Looks good,” she examined her leg. “Should heal in no time.”

“Can you walk on it? For lacrosse tomorrow?”

“Oh, for sure,” she winked. “I’m still killing it.”

They high-fived and she tossed the blanket over her leg. He crawled forward.

“You won’t forget about me, will you? When you go to Stanford?” Owen asked weakly. She pulled him into a hug.

“Never,” she promised. He melted into her embrace and sniffled. “You’re my favorite sibling. Throughout this whole fiasco, you’ve been a huge help. I won’t leave you behind. You’re so small I could probably sneak you on the plane in my carry-on.”

That got him to smile and made himself comfortable on her chest. Her fingers traced circles on her back.  

“Good,” he nodded. “I like you better than Ollie. You make awesome burritos.”

“I’ll still make you breakfast burritos so long I’m here,” she laughed.

 

Lara Jean collapsed on the couch and hid her face in her hands. How did things go so wrong so fast?

Peter joined her, stunned. He felt as if she had punched him the gut.

Danielle was so cold. She looked them straight in the eye and felt nothing as she delivered those heart-breaking words.

“Why does it feel like its worst than when we started,” Lara Jean croaked.

“I don’t know,” Peter replied breathlessly.


	9. A Mother's Intuition II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara Jean's Reflections

Maybe grounding Danielle wasn’t the best idea.

It only shut her out more.

Every time she passed by Danielle’s door, she was so tempted to knock. She wanted to barge inside, plead for her daughter to open up, tell her anything, and fix the rift between them. That was a pipedream. She settled with hovering. She’d stand too closely to door, trying to hear what Danielle was doing on the other side.

Homework.

Typical.

She was repeating numbers, going over equations, and grumbling when she messed up on her calculator.  

 

Lara Jean hated being lied to. It was one of the few things that set her off.

Yet, her youngest daughter lied to her without remorse. No shame. No excuse. Just pure, concentrated resentment. Danielle’s scowl had been pressed into Lara Jean’s mind. It made her stomach sick.  Her hand still stung from when her daughter slapped the phone in her palm.

At the end of the day, Lara Jean was compelled to feel like the guilty party.

Not that Danielle was innocent…

The way she accused her mother of meddling, the vitriol in her voice palpable, hurt Lara Jean more than she ever let on. Like she violated her daughter’s trust when it went both ways.

Lara Jean hurt her daughter enough to provoke an emotional reaction, something Danielle rarely allowed. She had always been so stoic in nature. She may have a handful of expressions that make outsiders squirm but she rarely let people pry into her state of mind.

 Danielle treasured her privacy. She tended to her little secrets like prized pets. She prided herself on keeping composed, never one to be completely unguarded. It was something that granted her peace and comfort. Her secretive mechanisms offered security. Lara Jean had desecrated all of them. It didn’t matter it came from a place of concern and hurt. All that mattered was her daughter didn’t trust her and Lara Jean’s explosion gave her all the more reason in the world to keep her mother at arm’s length.

 

Danielle was her most introverted child. Katie was the exact opposite. Oliver was an open book. Owen had no reservations talking about his day. Danielle?

Danielle didn’t care for anyone. Or seemed that way.

She didn’t share her feelings in the way her other children did. They embraced their parents. They craved their parents’ attention. They basked in their parents’ approval and protection. They liked their parents’ company.

Danielle could leave them all behind without a single look back.

Lara Jean was confident about that.

Danielle said so herself and she meant every word.

**_When I get there, I won’t be coming back here_ ** _._

The words shook Lara Jean to the core.

Since Danielle could walk, she showed a strong, silent disposition. She was fiercely independent and despised limitations. As a child, she’d pull her hand out of her father’s, or her mother’s, and insisted on walking ahead. She’d sit where she wanted to sit. She did what she wanted to do. She couldn’t be told otherwise. She’d didn’t listen to her parents. When reprimanded, she looked at her parents with spite, not shame.

If they offered to help, she reject them. She was going to do it on her own.

Lara Jean remember when Peter had asked her if she wanted a lift to reach the monkey bars. She shook her head. He still made a move to pick her up and she fought him tooth and nail. At first, he thought it was comical. After a second, he was confused. She pushed herself out of his grip, fell onto the woodchips, and proved she could walk it off. He returned to the bench, close to Lara Jean, and her heart yearned for her husband. He looked so defeated. 

She really didn’t want anything to do with him, or his help.

Her mother was no different.

When Lara Jean asked if Danielle wanted a push, next to the swing her baby brother was on, Danielle shot her mom a dry look and coolly told her she’d “figure it out.” When Lara Jean made a reach to push her, Danielle caught sight of her hand and all but screamed she’d _“figure it out!”_

And she did. And Lara Jean was almost certain Danielle scowled when Lara Jean squealed in delight.

On the same day, Danielle re-attempted the bars. This time, climbing up the pole opposed to jumping. She latched onto one bar, then another, then the one after that.

If there was a will, there was a way. She epitomized that.

Any parent should have felt proud. Their child was self-sufficient.

Lara Jean just felt rejected.

Peter came to terms with the feeling a long time ago.

 

As she grew, her stubborn streak hardened. Instead of opening up, she closed herself in more. Trying to get an answer out of her was like pulling teeth – it came to a point where no one wanted to do it. So they stopped pushing and left her to her own devices.

Lara Jean worried she’d get herself into trouble.

Instead, Danielle dedicated all her time to school. She was a brilliant student. A devoted scientist. She took to her studies intensely. She made friends with similar academics. She assisted her teachers whenever she could. Danielle was making strides in her field, networking wonderfully, and managed to get so many wonderful opportunities.

 

All her teachers had wonderful things to say about her.

She was dogged. Never one to waver from a challenge. She was naturally curious and if she were to ever ask, they’d give her all the equipment and elements she needed without a moment’s hesitation.  She was innovative. She was eager to excel. She was a testament to her own triumph. She asked the right questions. She asked questions nobody else thought of. She wasn’t scared of failure. She was persistent. She was a team player. Her lab mates had nothing but praise for her when they sent in group assessments. She just wanted to succeed and she did so in a manner that was respectful, ethical, and commendable.

Her freshman year made an impression on her calculus I teacher. Gregory Thompson. His name was familiar – he had been a commendable Harvard alumni and mathematician. He co-wrote papers that defined new _laws_. He started teaching High School as a means to slow down but not completely strip himself of indulging in his master subject.

 _“Nell is genius. She’s going to go somewhere, someday_. _It’s my absolute pleasure to have her in my classroom. I ask her for copies of her notes just so I can look through her thinking process. She’s extraordinary! I want to see where she goes and I won’t be surprised if she wins a Lasker Award in the future.”_

He even put in a good word in at _Harvard_ on her behalf, should she ever be interested.

_Harvard_

Lara Jean read the letter thoroughly. They have it framed.

Thompson then dropped a ball on them.

She wanted to go to Stanford. Danielle had confided in him she desperately wanted to go to Stanford. She wanted to be a cardiothoracic surgeon. It was all she could talk about, no matter how many times he posed alternatives. Preferably, he admitted her talents were better suited elsewhere, but Stanford would be blessed to have her in their ranks.

_You tell her if she changes her mind about Stanford, I’ll get her in. Harvard would want her in a heartbeat. With her talents alone, she’d be a top contender. All I need to do is co-sign and she’d have an acceptance letter and full ride scholarship in the mail the two weeks._

This girl, this brilliant woman, managed to get herself a foot into Harvard.

Yet she dead set to follow her dream, determined to get into Stanford.

 

Her honors chemistry teacher gloated about his favorite student. He had connections to Columbia and UCLA. He sponsored her in state level competitions. She was admitted to a national study and her findings were footnoted. A high school freshman was footnoted in a national study. _Danielle Margot Christine Kavinsky was footnoted in a national, scientific study._ Her teacher, Drew Corbin, had it saved and highlighted her contribution. 

_She has a true gift. She has a calling. I know she wants to practice medicine but if she wants to switch to research, she’d thrive. It is my honor to sponsor her. There’s another one coming up in October. I already entered her application in._

_UCLA is already taking in early considerations for their programs. Berkeley, too, but they won’t take applicants until December. She mentioned it was one of her choices. I took the liberty of recommending her. I know one of the boards. Danielle is a very strong candidate. They have her on a priority list. If she sends in her admissions application, I guarantee you they’ll approve her with grants._

 

Her parents were only the moon.

And distressed Danielle didn’t tell them any of it.

 

“A full ride scholarship to Harvard,” Peter gaped.

“She’ll never take it,” Lara Jean shook her head. “Her heart is set on Stanford.” When Danielle was fixed on something, she wasn’t going to let it go.

“I didn’t even know she wants to be – what as it?”

“A cardiothoracic surgeon,” Lara Jean answered.

“That girl could do anything she wanted,” Peter stared at the bedroom wall. “UCLA has her on a priority list. She has a good word at Harvard. Didn’t another teacher say something about Duke?”

“Yep,” Lara nodded.

“A full ride to Harvard…”

“Peter,” Lara frowned, “don’t go there. You’ll only be disappointed.”

“She can’t be that dumb to pass that up,” Peter grappled.

“She’s not dumb. She’s a certified genius.” 

“Who apparently is on the _California or bust_ train,” Peter grumbled bitterly. “Does she really want to put that much distance between us?”

 

That Christmas, Peter tried to be supportive. He really did. He bought her two sweatshirts – one from UCLA and the other from Berkeley. She was actually very appreciative. It was the Stanford sweats he also included that she couldn’t stop wearing.

Lara Jean could tell the idea broke his heart. Danielle was so talented. She didn’t see how much pride he had when her peers and teachers spoke so highly of her. She had an opportunity of a lifetime and she was passing it over for what he thought was just to get away from them.

 

Lara Jean wondered where they went wrong – when the relationship between child and parent severed.

Danielle was five years younger than her elder twin siblings. Peter was so adamant about being in their lives. He invested his time split evenly between Katie’s piano practice and Oliver’s lacrosse game.

By the time Danielle hit 5, Owen was welcomed into the world. He was a surprise but a welcomed one.

The twins bubbled into pre-teens. They had their own personality. Friends, programs, etch. Peter’s attention turned to his middle child, then starting school. Danielle didn’t reciprocate Peter’s affection. Somewhere along her toddler years, she decided she wasn’t interest in her father’s affection. Maybe it was because he didn’t have as much time to spare between the two eldest when she was just sprouting. She noted his lack of attention and it changed her mindset. During that time, Lara Jean and Danielle were the closest.

When Owen was born, Danielle came to the realization the infant would consume Lara Jean’s time, too. She wouldn’t compete with a baby. So, as she had with her father, she cut herself off, and began a fearsome independent streak that only hardened as she grew.

She could have gone to her father to fulfill her emotional needs but she had no basis to believe he could. She had no intention to exposing herself to the risk of disappointment. 

Maybe it was her mechanism to avoiding a broken heart, Lara Jean theorized. She felt so neglected that she reasoned if she could shut them out, they couldn’t hurt her. Danielle wouldn’t confirm this. She likely never would.

So, she distracted herself with science.

It was considerably the best thing that could have happened the Danielle.


	10. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game Day is just around the corner - everyone is antsy

“What lit a fire under her ass?”

Anderson stared at Kavinsky with bewilderment.

She’d always been good. She had the knowledge of the game, honed down the technique, had deadly accuracy, could carry the ball  across the field, and wasn’t afraid to put herself out there – literally – the girl could _jump_. All of which she had learned before trying out. The bonus of having a brother and father who exposed her to the game.

Like a hand delivered present, topped with a big, gold bow.

But _this_ Kavinsky was a whole other level.

She had been good when she was enjoying the game. She loved her teammates and thought the game was a bonding activity. Their chemistry and communication was off the charts. He hadn’t seen such coordination before.

When she learned Stanford was interested after she committed herself for the season, she was feisty. She wasn’t letting up. She took the game more seriously that she had before.

Whatever happened a few nights ago, Anderson thought, lit her ass up.

Anderson wasn’t complaining at all.

That was the energy they could use for the game. It was coming up soon and he loved to see them give their opponents a hard time.

He knew from the team’s musings she was having some problem behind the scenes. When asked about her heavily bandaged leg, Danielle made an excused she accidentally broke a plate and the shrapnel cut her up. Rather than discourage her, she was all the more dedicated. She was getting those passes. She was escaping covers. She was running like her life depended on it.

“What the hell happened that night, kid?”

Owen was next to him, sipping on a Snapple – courtesy of Chris, Hayes’ little brother who had started to join practice. (Anderson was disappointed the kid was set on basketball. If he was anything like his sister, he’d make a fine lacrosse player, give or take a few years.) Both kids were become fast friends and exchanged snacks every day.

“Mom made her mad,” Owen shrugged.

“How?”

“Can’t tell,” Owen replied shortly.

“How long does she stay mad?” Curiosity got the best of him. If she was this good angry – how long would it last?

“She’s cool now,” Owen returned. “She holds grudges though. She hasn’t talked to our brother for a year. She’s only talked to me since the fight.”

That garnered surprised from Anderson. “Wait, what did your brother do?”

“He told our parents she had a girlfriend. No one knew yet,” Owen explained.

“Your sister is gay?!”

Owen glared. “Why would it matter? Her friends don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Anderson quickly assured. “I just haven’t seen her with anyone. She kept it under wraps.”

“Yeah, well, Leah wasn’t really nice,” Owen leaned back. “They didn’t last long. I think she said something mean about Mary and Nell didn’t like that.”

 

Game day was three days away.

The girls felt ready.

They performed like they were ready.

By all accounts, Anderson was confident they were.

He pulled each one aside for the one-on-one pep talk.

When it came to Kavinsky, she had an air of arrogance that relieved him. She had a fire in her eyes and steady focus in her gait. 

She was someone to succeeded off a spite, he realized. He liked that. A lot. Give her a challenge, she’ll rise to it. So he did.

“I don’t know what was said or done,” he clapped her shoulder and squeezed it, “but I know that you’re a damn good player and if anyone can give Manhasset middies’ a run for their money, its you. Give them hell, Kavinsky. Stanford is watching, kid. Show them they’d should consider themselves lucky you even gave them a glance.”

She nodded and held her head high.

“Thanks, Coach,” she grinned.

 

“Who’s field it this?” He bellowed.

“ _Our field!_ ” They rallied back.

 

When Oliver had games, Peter and Lara Jean would send him with a care package. A small note of encouragement, something sweet, something sour – preferably sour patch kids, his choice of Gatorade, and some cash for the pizza party afterwards.

When he tried to create one for Danielle, he found himself at a loss.

What _did_ she like? She didn’t like nuts – so snickers were out. She hated when Lara Jean put too much peanut butter on her PBJ – but was that because it was too much peanut butter or she just didn’t like it in general? For safe measure, Peter turned away from the Reese’s pieces.

“Hey, Mr. K,” came from behind.

He knew Mary’s voice any day. He turned around and smiled.

The first thing he noted – Mary Winslow is very, very short. Danielle was around 5’11. She dwarfed Mary, who probably was no taller than 5’2. When they first met, they were the same height, and then puberty struck. Danielle grew like a weed and Mary pushed about an inch or two, max.

Mary’s hair seemed redder than he last remember. He thought it was darker. She could have dyed it – again. He didn’t want to be rude, so he didn’t ask. It was straight, too. Very underwhelming compared her to usual, elaborate styling.

 “Mary,” he greeted happily. He pulled her into a half-hug. Her younger sister was with her, bored. Their mother was pulling forward, a cart full of groceries. She had two college-bound boys, a teen girl, and three kids under 10. Sometimes Lara Jean and Peter pitied her but she was faring well. Her husband was doing well as a pilot and she worked in the same hospital as Lara Jean. “Rebecca, nice to see you again.”

“Peter, how’s it going? How’s Danielle?”

“Good,” he replied half-heartedly. She barely spoke to either he or Lara Jean other than out of obligation. It was unsettling. Going by Mary’s raised eyebrow, she knew more than she let on. She probably knew more that Peter ever would about Danielle’s inner-goings. “She’s doing well. She has a game Saturday afternoon. I’m making a care package, like the ones we made for Ollie. I’m kind of stuck. There’s too much to choose from,” he laughed, hiding his nerves.

“Starbucks frap – caramel,” Mary listed. “Twix,” she snatched the bar from the shelf and tossed it into his basket, “and a caramel chews. She loves this stuff. And…” she scanned the shelf for something, “ah, for variety, she likes these, too,” she held up Mike-and-Ike’s tropical flavor box.

“Thanks, kid,” Peter smiled genuinely. “Anything else?”

“Those egg-shaped chapsticks. She loses them constantly. A pink or red one. She doesn’t like any other flavor.”

“You helped a bunch, Mary. Thanks so much,” Peter clapped her shoulder. “Does she drink Gatorade at all?”

“No,” Mary shook her head furiously. “She got sick once and tried to replenish her electrolytes with the red one and threw it up anyways. She can’t look at them the same. It makes her queasy. She prefers plain water. She could use a new water bottle. She’s been drinking from this busted up tin that looks like crap She refills it a bazillion times a day. The bigger, the better.”

“Cool, cool,” Peter nodded. _Water bottle, chapstick, and an iced coffee_ , he mentally listed.

“She likes red – a lot – so if you’re going for a theme…” Mary hinted.

“Roger that,” Peter raised a brow.

“Ooh, if you really want to go the _extra mile_ ,” Mary emphasized. Peter wasn’t blind and became alert to Mary’s clue, “headbands. Lots of them. She has too many binders but not enough headbands. The thin, black ones because they stick – not the big, fabric things. Her hair is a mess after practice.  She’ll be grateful.”

“Mary, he’s making a bag, not a college-kit,” Rebecca cut in.

“Fine,” Mary groaned but she shot Peter a knowing look.

“Thanks a lot, kid. I appreciate the help.” Peter meant sincerely.

Mary left with a wink and ignored her mother’s scolding.

Peter went the opposite direction, to where he remembered where the kitchen supplies were – conveniently across from the pharmacy.

There was a huge selection of bottles to chose from but he decided to go with the biggest one he could find. There was a plain red one. It was perfect.

He found grabbed a 4 pack of headbands matching Mary’s description. They weren’t cheap but he wasn’t going to complain. He found a ball-type chapstick he though Mary referred to and hoped it was the right one. Last but not least, he found the coffee she was talking about by the cashier’s lane. He bought two for safe measure – one for the game and one for the fridge.

He had to make one last stop before returning home.

 

On the short drive across his side of town, Peter reflected.

Mary Winslow knew more about Danielle than he did. Though, that was no surprise given they had a deep friendship stemming from elementary school. They clicked in fifth grade, a pure coincidence given both their mothers worked in the same hospital. It was only after their first sleepover did Lara Jean recognize Rebecca at the door. Rebecca worked the three floors above, a pediatric nurse.

While Peter was conflicted over candy bars, Mary could check them off in less than a second. _Twix. Caramel chews. Chapstick. No Gatorade. Headbands._ She didn’t even have to think. It was second nature. She knew Danielle like the back of her own hand.

Mary was a good influence on Danielle and vice versa. They stayed out of trouble. They did the same clubs. Even when Mary moved across town, it didn’t hinder their connection. They still ran in same circles, visited their favorite shops, and shared classes to the point they could have the same notebook.

Mary was so much like Danielle – only more outward about her ambition. She was interested in pharmacy and had her eyes on Michigan – or was it Minnesota? Either University had a good reputation. Danielle had mentioned USC was just as good – they’d be in the same state! – but Mary laughed, saying she’d always be a Midwest girl. Danielle pouted and insisted she’d figure something out – she wasn’t going to let Mary go so easily.

 

_“You’d love it,” Mary insisted. “It’s great!”_

_“Uh, no,” Danielle shook her head deliberately slow. “I like it warm, thank you very much.”_

_“We don’t always have winter! We have really hot summers, too. You’d love it. We have everything. Cities, farms, woods – its so diverse! We have the great lakes, too! More shoreline than California!”_

_“Too bad I can’t enjoy them in 4 feet of snow,” Danielle shot her a look. “I’ve seen your family photos – that’s ridiculous. No way a human can function there!”_

_“We function just fine! We have so much fun! Hockey? Skiing? Ice skating? There’s so much to do!!”_

_“I don’t even like hockey and I don’t know how to skate or ski!”_

_“You’re so difficult,” Mary pouted. “Okay, the U is like the top ten best medical schools. We have the Mayo Clinic! The Mayo is the top tier facility. Everyone from around the world goes there for top of the line care! You’d do so well there!”_

_“You also have blizzards every year – so no.”_

_“So does California!”_

_“Yeah, **way** up north! Not in Stanford!” _

_“One of these days, I’ll convince to come with me. You’ll love it. We have a cabin by the boundary waters – its so serene and the water is perfect for skiing.”_

_“I could say the same thing to you – you’d love California. Sunshine, coastline, national forests, and endless wine!”_

_“If only I could afford it,” Mary laughed._

He remembered their little tiff in the living room. Danielle was not having it while Mary teased her.

 Why was she so desperate to hang onto Mary? She was so eager to drop her family. What did Mary have that Danielle was so determined to keep near? What did she know? Peter wasn’t jealous – just hurt. He would have asked Mary himself but he was concerned that would be a crossed boundary. A grown adult shouldn’t be bothering a mere child for advice.

 

Danielle liked red – he knew that.

He didn’t mind spending money on his kids. He took immense satisfaction providing for them.

He examined the windbreaker and wondered if it’d be warm enough.

There was a jacket, too, he had been contemplating – double layered around the neck. Great for Danielle. She was sensitive to the cold.

Then again, he should get something compatible with her team colors. She was going to commit until likely her senior year. That was her plan. It was going to get her to Stanford. 

He pulled out his phone, dialing a memorized number.

“Sup Dad?”

“Owen, I need your advice. I’m at Nike,” Peter was abruptly interrupted.

“Facetime me,” Owen demanded.


	11. Game Day I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big Day is here and everyone is excited.

Peter was so excited to see her reaction.

He was just as excited to see her in her uniform.

He hadn’t seen it before.

Lara Jean was nervous, fiddling her fingers. Every time she looked at Danielle was like a sharp paper cut. Danielle refused to address her and made it very apparent she would rather be doing something less pleasant.

Lara Jean slipped her a note in her bag – the one Peter was gripping tightly. It was a durable lunchbox with a rollable Velcro top. On the side was a mesh pocket her water bottle fit perfectly in.

A pair of feet hustled down the stairs and both parents stood up to greet their children.

Owen emerged first, beaming.

“May I present – Danielle Kavinsky!” Owen announced.

Behind him, their daughter appeared.

Lara Jean raised a hand to her mouth, moved.

Peter felt his heart burst.

 

Danielle was dressed dominantly in black, the hem of jersey almost unrecognizable from her skort. She wore black sleeves for extra protection from the brisk October cold. A bold gold strip ran from her sides and bled through her collarbone and sleeves. _SPARTANS_ was printed in white-laced gold just above her numbers, _05_.

“Turn around, please,” Peter requested. She obliged.

 _KAVINSKY_ was printed in similar style, arching from one shoulder to another. Underneath, the same set of numbers.

Her hair was pulled back into a high pony tail, swishing over her last name.

Her socks were the same shade of black and reached quarter-calf length. They made her shoes pop – plain white cleats with gold laces, customized to match the team colors.

“Sweetheart, you look wonderful,” Lara Jean gleamed.

“Thanks,” Danielle mumbled, uninterested.

“Oh, here, uh, Owen helped me pick it out!” Peter reached for the bright orange bag. It had the Nike logo attached. She eyed it with surprise. He held it out and waited with suspended breath as she pried it open.

She sampled the fabric and slowly eased it out, genuinely impressed.

It was a white windbreaker. It was thick to the touch but made of breathable material. The collar popped up with an attachable hoodie. She didn’t look like she hated it.

“Nice coverage, comfortable fit,” she observed when she slipped it over her torso, adjusting the collar. “Good choice Owen,” she turned to her little brother with a smile. Owen squinted and thumbed towards Peter’s direction. She looked to back to her dad, closing her lips into a tight smile. “Thanks, pop.” She added.  

Peter’s stomach flip.

That had to be a good sign.

She was interested enough to put it on.

It did look good on her – not too big, not too small. Just the right size.

Small steps, he reminded himself.

“Oh, this, too!” Peter propped forward the bag. She raised a brow. “For good luck.”

“Cool,” she dragged out, reluctantly taking the thing.

“Open it up at the game,” Lara Jean insisted.

“Uhm, I’ll just peep it in the car,” Danielle contorted her face in uncertainty

“Can we get pictures?” Lara Jean insisted.

“Just a few,” Peter raised his hands in a truce. “No more than 5. Promise.”

Danielle used all her energy to resist an eye roll.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Five. Then we have to get going. I have drills.”

Lara Jean fumbled with her phone and opened up her camera.

 

Peter tugged his baby girl close. Her shoulder rubbed against his upper rib.

It reminded Peter how little contact they had. She always insisted to sit up front in photos, solo.

His hand squeezed her upper arm tenderly. She preferred to keep hers behind her back. The other rested on her hip, bent at an angle.

She forced a smile, showing teeth, and quickly pushed him out of the frame after two flashes.

“One solo,” she ordered, forcing the edges of her lips upwards. No teeth.

“One with me,” Lara Jean scurried to her daughter’s side. Peter took control of the phone and snapped two more. Danielle forced the same, toothless smile as before. The height difference between mother and daughter amused Peter. It was amazing how genetics worked – all his kids exceeded 5’10 – except Owen but he was confident he’d get there.

“Hey, I know you said 5 but can I get one?” Owen propped himself at her right side.

“Of course, bro,” Danielle smile genuinely. She smiled the widest when Owen was posed next to her, arms crossed and leaning with a grin. She rested her chin atop of his head, head tilted.

Peter decided that was his favorite.

 

“Wait, we need one with your stick!” Owen boasted, hailing the object from her bag. They were already out front, nearing the car. She took the stick from his hand and posed, holding her stick upright. Owen had his own phone ready, taking three photos in sequence, and tossed her a thumbs up. “Yes! Okay, let’s get this show on the road!”

 

The car ride was quieter than he liked.

“So, what do you play?”

He asked before but he never got an answer.

Until now.

“Midfield,” Danielle replied from the back. She was checking on her phone – her teammates were giving her minute updates.

That prompted Peter’s brows to soar.

Midfield was intense and rigorous. He never knew she had such stamina.

Ollie was firm defense. He had been a goalkeeper for most of his D1 days.

Defense. Goalkeeper. Now a Midfielder. The family was now diverse.

Owen only said she was good. Really good. And fast.

No wonder she was midfield.

“Do you like it?” He continued.

“It keeps me busy,” she shrugged.

Owen sputtered.

“Busy? You’re all over the place!” The kid exclaimed. “I can’t keep track of you! Up and down. Left and Right! You zoom!”

“That’s what middies are supposed to do, kid,” she pursed her lips, brows knitted in confusion. “If I wanted to stand still, I’d be a goalkeeper.”

Lara Jean was eerily quiet on the passenger side. They had both noticed Danielle glaze over the bag’s content – including the note. No reaction. Just a blank look and then promptly refolding the bag, tucking it between her feet next to her equipment.

Peter would have to ask Lara Jean what she wrote.

 

Danielle rushed onto the field, welcomed by her friends. One of them scooped her up, spinning her around.

Her family settled on the stands alongside other familial spectators. Owen grumbled in disappointment. He wanted to sit next to the coach, the “prime” viewing spot, but Peter was firmly against it.

“Chris!” Owen loudly whispered to a kid in front. The boy turned and recognized him.

“Owen! Dude!” he turned to his dad, gesturing to Owen, and quickly jumped up in excitement. “I’m coming up!”

They shared the end of the bench, exchanging a fist pump.

“Hi Chris,” Lara Jean greeted.

“Hi, Missus K,” Chris shook her hand. “Mr. K,” he did the same with Peter. “My sister is over there,” he pointed to the goal. “Natalie – Natalie Hayes. She’s number 16. First Home. Ooh – There’s Elise, Elise Healy – Third man. Number 7. She’s talking to Anna, Anna Foley – number 2.”

“Who’s midfield?” Peter asked.

“Danielle, number 5. Really intense on the field. Mad interceptions. It’s crazy how high she can jump,” Chris listed. “If you don’t watch close enough, you’ll miss it. It’s pretty awesome to see. She’s passing with Moore. They usually pair up like that.

Davina Moore, number 18. She gets mad height, too, but speed her best strength. She’s just as badass. She can’t be caged. When she has the ball, she guns it. You can’t catch her. She usually runs straight because she can – seriously, the chick set a record last year!

Riley Holden, number 10 – Danielle’s second best. They’re super close. She’s the redhead doing the suicide jumps. She’s like Moore, she covers distance like hellhounds are on her heel. Those are the 3 main midfielders.”

“Defense is composed of Sonya Colombo, 14; Maria Ruiz, 9; Grace Nolan, 22; and Brynne Tinsley, 20; Molly Dunne, number 2, is goal keeper,” Owen added.

“What do you think of the roster?” Peter inquired.

“Maria doesn’t mess around – she’s tough. She’ll probably get a foul. Nolan is nasty – she doesn’t you space. She’s really good defense,” Owen replied.

“Why the heck is Anna Foley on the attack when she should be defense? Sonya Columbo should be second and Anna should be defense. It’s like their opposite strengths. Wait – there’s coach – thank God!” Chris exasperated. Anna was darting down the field and intercepted Sonya, pointing to the other goal. The two exchanged claps and switched sides, Anna now in the ranks of defense.

“Nolan and Foley aren’t going to make it easy,” Owen smirked.

“Neither are Tinsley or Ruiz.”

“Top line defense,” the boys slapped hands.

“Attack is pretty good, too. You have Healy who gets it home ninety percent of the time. Your sister is wicked with her corner shots,” Owen gave a sharp nod.

“Thank you, my man,” Chris affirmed with a bow.

“Colombo is sharp with her shots,” Owen added. “I think we have a chance,” he mused cheekily.

“Aw, shut up, man,” Chris’s face contorted.

 

“I know y’all ain’t having a dance break without me,” Hayes yelled. Her figure darted forward, joining the small gathering at the sidelines.

“Took you long enough,” Danielle chuckled.

“Nuh-huh, nope, we ain’t doing that,” Natalie pointed teasingly. “Come on, hit me with me. I need to bust a move.”

Moore shuffled her playlist and the speaker erupted in sound.

“Yas, this is what I’m talking about,” Natalie jittered. The nostalgic song got louder, much to everyone’s enjoyment.

“Riley, come on, keep up,” Danielle beckoned her in.

“I don’t have the ass for it,” Riley exclaimed above the noise.

“It’s not the ass – it’s about the legs!” Natalie returned jovially.

“Like this,” Danielle grinned. “Or you could shoulder roll,” demonstrating. 

“And then you show off with your chest work – how do you keep in time?! I’m not that coordinated!” Riley exasperated.

“Riley!” Natalie tugged her in between. “Move your arms!”

“Like this,” Danielle replicated a move she saw from a Bruno Mars’ video. “Both pinkies in the air, bring it down to the opposite hip, freeze! Repeat – different side! There! Okay, now, add this. Pinkies up, arms down, other side. When you do that, knees out, knees together, _bounce_. Knees out, knees together, _bounce_. Cool, now add a little shoulder to it. Lean with it,” she weaved.

“See! You say that and then you do that weird stanky leg thing!” Riley shrieked.

“Girl,” Natalie laughed loudly, clutching her stomach. “That ain’t a stanky leg! That’s a _‘lean wit it, rock wit it’_ move’. Get your white ass in time so I can show you how to dance like the real thing.”

“We’re not giving up on you yet,” Danielle jumped into a new dance – arms rotating like a wind wheel as she bounced on her toes – butt outwards. “I may not have an ass but I can look like it.”

Natalie and Moore whistled.

“Ay, Kavinsky! There are children around!” Elise howled from the other end of the field.

“Show me what you got, Healy!” Danielle screamed.

Elise didn’t hesitate, hitting a perfect _Nay-Nay_. She pointed at Kavinsky. _“Back at you, homegirl!”_

“Yas, get it, ladies,” Natalie clapped. She turned to Riley, amused. “See? They got it! How can you do that fancy footwork but you can’t do a lean?” Natalie screamed-laughed, tearing up.

 

“Dude,” Chris wailed, “I can’t believe this. No way.”

“Riley is never going to get it. She’s over thinking it. The dance is so simple. You roll the heel, that’s how you do it. She’s using too much upper body,” Owen pinched his nose.

“Our sisters are saints trying to teach her,” Chris slapped his chest.

“God bless the fact we have rhythm,” they shared similar expressions.

“And our sisters, too,” they initiated their special handshake.

 

It like watching a stranger.

Peter half enjoyed it. The other hand weighed heavily on his conscious.

Lara Jean was entranced.

Danielle was dancing unapologetically with her teammates. All four of them were ‘hitting’ the newest ‘challenge’ – all in coordination. Lara Jean recognized the _running man_ but for the other moves, she was blank. Danielle was smiling, laughing, and cracking jokes. She was pushing her teammate with her hip, laughing when they tried to push her away.

“Stop messing me up!” she – Davina, she thinks – yelled, slapping her backside lightly. Danielle stuck her tongue out.

Lara Jean had never seen her daughter act so freely and carelessly.

The whistle blew and they all got into formation after a brief huddle.

 

By the time introductions are over, Chris and Owen come back with a popcorn and cokes. Peter looks offended they don’t offer to share. He takes a few liberal scoops, much to Owen’s annoyance.

 

“Molly Dunne is goalkeeper; Tinsley is at Point position – the one closest to the goal. Next, in the middle, is Anna Foley. She’s CenterPoint. The farthest one is called the Third Man. Grace Nolan is guarding that position. Maria will substitute halfway more than likely.” Owen narrated to his parents. Peter pretended to play along even though he already knew half the terms. It was more for Lara Jean’s sake than his.

“Danielle is on the left. Riley Holden on the right. Davina Moore in the center. They’re going to push the other team back.”

“Elise Healy is third man. Behind her is Sonya Columbo, second. Closest to the net is Natalie Hayes, first. Watch for Elise. Danielle will always throw to her when she can. If Elise can’t get the shot, she’ll throw it to Nat who can.”

Peter nodded and kept his eye on Danielle.

She looked so intense, ready to pounce as the set up the draw.

Moore shot her a look and then turned to Riley, saying something.

Both defense wings nodded and readied their sticks.


	12. Game Day II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goals are won - Hearts are bruised

The ball is up in the air!

…

MOORE HAS POSSESSION!

 

She dashes forward, weaving in and out.

Owen was right – she was fast.

Danielle is close behind.

Riley is up ahead.

 

“It’s not because she’s slow,” Owen says. “They have a tactic. Danielle throws long. If there’s a chance Davina is caged, she’s going to Danielle. Danielle will throw to Riley. Riley will carry it forward to Elise.”

No matter how Moore tries to evade, she finds herself blocked. The joys of being too close to the goal. She could throw to Healy but there is a too great of chance one of the defenders will intercept. She turns back to Danielle. Danielle is uncovered. She’s zagging too fast. She has a pattern Moore knows too well. Anticipating her footwork, Moore throws out.

Holden is closest to Hayes. Danielle knows what to do. She leaps up, stick extended, and grabs the ball in her pocket.

Within a second, it’s out again. Holden scoops it, lunging to her right where Hayes is waiting. Hayes intercepts – swinging it to her right where the corner has the largest gap.

“AND THE SPARTANS SCORE!”

“What coordination!” The announcer narrates.

 

Peter has to blink.

It happened in a split second.

“How?” Peter is wordless. “She was – and – then she – what??”

“Told you she’s fast,” Owen grinned.

 

She’s good. _Really good_.

Peter’s mouth is dry.

It’s not because the popcorn is too salty.

 

She never stops. Not once. Unless counting the draw period, she’s basically a bullet.

She is elusive. It becomes apparent she’s critical when it comes to scoring. If she’s not controlling the midfield, there’s a chance the other team could score. She’s dogged in her pursuit of the ball. Her opponents manage to bypass Riley  and Danielle is hauling it.

She gets between players – eyeing the ball.

One attempts to throw it over her head.

She snatches it down. It bounces off the field. She scoops, spins, and makes eyes with Davina who is within range. Danielle catapults it. It lands at her feet and she scoops. Davina is already covering half the field, her opponents a few yards behind.

WHAT A FAST BREAK

They meet with resistance. Defense is rather rough. Teeth are ground.

Davina throws a triangle – first to Riley – then Riley sends it to Danielle.

Danielle can see Colombo within range. It’s too straight forward though. Too many players can jump in between. They are already eyeing the intended path, pockets ready. She swivels. Nat is blocked. Elise is in a risky situation. Two players, too risky.

Fuck.

She scrunches her nose and eyes the corner path. She reverses, defense fast behind her. She takes a few more running steps backwards to gain distance. With enough space, Danielle lunges forward, spinning around an incoming defense.

_Take the shot. Now!_

She’s a foot off the ground. There, an opening.

The ball is out.

Goalkeeper is anticipating left.

Danielle intended high.

The ball blows past her right shoulder.

It’s in.

It’s in!

**IT’S IN!**

“SPARTANS GAIN THE LEAD!”

 

She’s soon swarmed.

She’s jumping.

Oh my God.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

Anna’s mouth is ajar. She’s screaming. She’s shaking Danielle, rattling her head.

“What a shot!”

Her heart is pounding.

Natalie hugs her from behind.

Sonya grabs her cheeks and connects foreheads.

“That’s a Stanford shot, Nell!”

Riley and Moore sway her tirelessly.

She enveloped the closest – Riley.

“Congrats on your first shot of the season, Nell!” Riley squealed.

It feels surreal.

They dispatch, heading back to the center.

Her blood is pumping.

 

Both men erupt – standing up the moment Danielle swings.

“HOLY SHIT!” Owen exclaims. Peter doesn’t reprimand him because he’s saying the same thing, too.

 

Riley is going to crash into defense. She thinks quick. Danielle intercepts.

Sonya is clear.

She passes.

Sonya fakes a left and spins right.

It’s out.

It’s in!

SCORE!

 

Molly passes to Danielle. She’s the farthest out. Moore takes a running start. Riley passes ahead. One left, one right.

Danielle doesn’t risk the distance. She carries the ball half way, escaping two defenders with a slick weave.

Healy is closest to Riley. Riley would have to risk heavy defense.

Hayes  is too far.

Moore clears herself from a defender.

Enough time for her to scoop the ball, too high for interception. She returns it to Sonya. Sonya fakes left. She slides it to Riley.

The defenders start to gravitate her way.

Hayes is less covered.

She passes.

Hayes collects it. She jets out and gets a goal under the arm.

“That’s why I’m talking about!” She yells.

She’s caught in a wave, nearly run over by her teammates.

 

12 – 5

That was the final score.

The Spartans celebrate in the field while their opponents retire to the sideline.

They keep track: Elise with 4 shots, Natalie tied with 4, Sonja collecting 3, and Danielle scored her first.

 

“I’m so proud of you girls,” Anderson commends. “You showed true grit, communication, and trust. That is what this game is all about. I’ll see everyone tonight at Foley’s place. Her father has been kind enough to invite us for BBQ. Vegetarians bring their own burgers.”

The girls laughed.

“Congrats, ladies. The first of many wins to comes.” He breaks the huddle. “Keep this up. We’re going to state without a doubt!”

 

Danielle is in a daze as she walks across the field alongside Riley.

“You were on fire today,” Riley bumped her with her hip.

Danielle returned the gesture, bursting into a grin.

“So were you,” Danielle lugs an arm over her shoulders. “How are you walking? My legs feel numb,” she laughs.

“Mine do, too!” Riley insists. “I’m so freaking tired. I just want to collapse! I just might.”

Riley plops backward, kicking her legs up dramatically.

“Man down!” Danielle shrieks hysterically. She joins her on the ground, enjoying the cool break.

“Ooof!” Danielle doubles over as Natalie joins, strewing herself across Danielle’s torso.

“Mass casualty, huh?” Anna chuckled over the spectacle.

“Join us,” Natalie groans heavily – forcing her lowest tone.

“Fine,” Anna joins eagerly.

“Not the – _ooh!_ There goes my organs,” Danielle hissed.

Anna hugs Natalie from behind. Both of them atop of Danielle.

“Isn’t this every lesbian’s dream?” Natalie teases.

“Not when they are cutting off my air supply,” Danielle wheezes. She tries to push them off. It was a futile.

They start to gather themselves, helping Riley and Danielle up.

“See you at the BBQ!” Danielle salutes. “Gotta face the fam!”

“Alright, I’m gonna pick you up at 4 sharp! Bring the little guy! I like him.”

“Promise! Looking forward to the bonfire! Thanks Anna!”

 

She’s waiting by the bleacher’s exit with her bag hung from her shoulder.

Owen barrels out, hugging Danielle around the waist.

“That was so cool! Dude – I wish could have caught that on camera!”

“Maybe next time, bud,” Danielle ruffled his hair. “You’re invited to the team BBQ tonight. Chris will be there, too.”

“Awesome!” Owen cheers.

 Her parents follow.

“Great game, Danielle,” her mother is first. She tries to hug her. Danielle accepts it but doesn’t reciprocate. Owen sees her side eye and winces. Her mother holds her longer than she likes.

Her father is wide eyed.

“Where the hell did that come from?” his hands are doing wild gestures.

She shrugged.

His steps are fast and he’s at her side in an instant, tugging her close in a one-armed hug. Its awkward. He won’t let go. She doesn’t push him though. She just hopes he’ll let go. If he sense her tenseness, he pretends not to.

“You were fantastic out there!!!!”

“I know,” the words fly. “I have to be Stanford ready. They don’t just take anyone.” She looks to where Natalie is. She’s hugging her father. They were always close. Since her mom went to rehab, it’s just been the three of them. “Thanks, though,” she mumbles.  

She feels his hand slag and she uses it as an opportunity to get out. Owen follows.

“Come on!” She shouts over her shoulder. Both parents are in shock. “I have a BBQ to go to.”

“That went well,” Peter blinked.

“She doesn’t like big shows of affection,” Owen excused on her behalf.

In the moment, Danielle screams.

Mary bursts through the lot, jumping onto her best friend. Her duffle bag drops. They spin around over the pavement. Danielle waddles a few feet forward, refusing to let go of the redhead.

“ _You did such a good job! Oh my God! You’re like a pro! Ahh!”_ Mary squeals.

“ _Did you see that shot? Holy shit!_ ” Danielle matches her tone.

 _“Where did that come from??_ ”

“ _I don’t know!!”_

“ _I’m so proud of you! I love you so much! You did a fabulous job!”_

“ _Thank you!!!”_

“Oh,” Owen meekly uttered, cringing at the irony of his words.

“Small steps,” Peter whispered with a heavy exhale. “Smell steps.”

“Small steps,” Lara Jean repeats weakly. They couple exchange a despaired look, tangle hands, and start heading forward, passing the two girls.

Mary bid Danielle goodbye and their daughter joins them in the car.

“Thanks for the Mike-and-Ike’s,” Danielle added.

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome,” Peter looks back, hopeful. She’s already distracted by her phone, looking up photos her friends took.

She doesn’t say anything else in the car.


	13. A Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something finally clicks

They don’t see Danielle for the rest of the night.

She naps for an hour before Anna picks her up.

She barely bids them goodbye before she and Owen are off.

 

Lara Jean feels dejected.

Peter lets her lie on the couch and rubs her back.

“She hates me,” Lara Jean croaks.

“She’ll come around,” Peter says. He’s hopeful.

“It’ll be a year, or maybe longer, before she talks to me,” Lara Jean sniffs. “She doesn’t even look at Ollie anymore.”

“We just have to show her we’re trying,” Peter bits his lip, unsure of his words. “What did you write her?”

Lara Jean’s lip wobbles. “Doesn’t matter,” her voice cracks.

Peter lies behind her, wrapping an arm around her body. His chin rests atop of her head.

“It does,” Peter assures.

“I told her she’s a force to be reckoned with,” Lara Jean replies weakly.

“That’s pretty encouraging,” he comforts.

“It didn’t phase her,” Lara Jean shook. “I feel useless.”

“You’re not,” Peter squeezes. “She’s just trying to be tough. Inside, somewhere, deep down, she’s a gooey mess just like the rest of us. We just have to patient.”

“I can’t stand it,” Lara Jean holds his hand. “I can’t stand how she shuts us out so easily. You saw her with her friends. We were watching a stranger. I want to know her the way they do.”

“We do know her. We just know another side of her. Maybe the wrong side, maybe the worst side, but we still know her, and with time, maybe she’ll be open with us like she is with her friends. I’ll tell you what – we have this amazing child. She’s a genius, she’s talented, she’s convicted in her goals and I know we will never, ever have to worry about her making it in the world.”

“I miss my little girl,” Lara Jean yearned. “I remember when she was just a baby and she’d look at me… like… she trusted me completely. She knew I wouldn’t let her go. She couldn’t wait to share her world with me. Now she’s doing everything to kick me out of it.”

“Don’t say that, Covey,” Peter nestled into her neck. “You still haven’t let her go. We just have to keep fighting, even if it seems like she resents us for it. Just another mountain for us to move. We can do it.”

“She’s all grown up now,” Lara Jean whimpered. “She grew so fast. Where’d the time go? How did she grow up before our eyes without realizing it? Where did we lose sight?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “but just because she’s growing up doesn’t mean we’ve missed out. We still have a lot of years ahead of us. We got ourselves a Stanford kid,” he forced a chuckle. The thought of Stanford made his heart constrict. Had there been any other reason, he’d be ecstatic, but his suspected motivations caused more pain that pride. “She’s got a lot more moments ahead of her.” 

 

Lara Jean fell asleep in his arms.

Peter used his free hand to look over the days’ photos.

Owen was an expert when it came to the new camera feature. He got amazing shots.

Peter noticed almost right something was different about her hair.

It was hard to see but he was certain.

Blending in with her hair, a single black headband.

 

Danielle was a lot of things.

Smart. So fucking smart. She got some of that from her mom but the rest – she did that on her own. She was passionate. Maybe her passionate streak was from both parents. Or neither. She was fierce in her own right. She was convicted and determined. She was a doting friend and wonderful student. She was patient big sister. She was reserved and cautious when it came to allowing people inside. When she did, she was joyful and energetic. She was opinionated.

She had his temper, Peter thought. That night when she went missing for two hours, before that, there was a flash that made him think about his own youth. Angry, explosive, and physical. There was a piece of him that he could recognize in her. He understood her in that moment and only realized it when she disappeared into the night.

He remember when his dad walked out on him and Owen. He had the same reaction. He was bursting at the seams. Things were broken. Words he never imagined saying were said. He hated to feel so helpless and abandoned. He just wanted to be heard.

 _He just wanted to be heard_.

Of course he’d be blind to what’s been in front of him.

He cut his dad off in every sense to ensure he’d never hurt him again. Attempts to reconcile were met with resentment and resistance. He didn’t want to open that door. He was certain disappointment would always follow. So, he did everything in his power to make sure he wouldn’t be burned again.

A light bulb clicked in his mind.

She was doing the same thing.

 

He didn’t know what he did but he had to fix it.

 

He didn’t mean to pry into her room but he couldn’t resist getting acquainted with Danielle in any way he could.

She stayed in the same room her whole life. A clean desk sat where her crib had been. Right next to the window overlooking the neighbor’s backyard.

He remember coming into her room in the middle of night, just to check if she was alive. She barely cried as a baby. He was so worried something would happen and he wouldn’t know. He became paranoid. She was fine – she’d always be fine. Healthy and active. She’d always be awake when he came to check up on her. She’d look up at him and he’d plead for her to go to sleep, that she’d be so tired the next morning.

She clung onto the railings and smiled. She figured out how to stand upright so early. Much earlier than the twins or Owen. Huh, he almost forgotten about that.

He would hold onto her hands when she wiggled, so she wouldn’t fall backwards. He’d ease her down, pressing her flat with his palm.

“No more jumping,” he warned her with stern eyes. He couldn’t help but smile when she babbled in reply, wiggling her arms and legs.

He could remember all of it like yesterday.

 

She was orderly. She liked functionality. She really liked Hans Zimmer. ‘Zombie Apocalypse’ was her favorite movie genre. She really hated the cold, given the layers of comforters she had. She adored her best friend. She kept all her science awards on an elaborate board by her bed. Notes from her teachers were tacked on, too.

She framed one: a small blue ribbon with a plain white background. In the corner, a small polaroid was tucked safely in the corner behind the glass. Her large, messy signature was written in the top corner above it. It was dated when she was in fourth grade.

Two, fresh pink post-it notes were taped onto the frame.

_Thought about you today on the swings._

_Thank you for being there when I needed someone to remind me I could be somebody._

_I miss you a lot. I wish you were still here._

_I hope I’m making you proud._

_Love you Mr. Hardesty._

The second one followed up.

_P.S. You said I could be Stanford material._

_I am._

_This one’s for you. I’ll give credit where it’s due._

He stared at the small photo. She was in front of booth, hugging her late teacher. He remember Mr. Hardesty. He died of thyroid cancer just after New Year’s. It was tragic – he was only thirty-seven. She was smiling. He couldn’t recall when she smiled so wide. They were in front of a booth – one with the same ribbon attached. She was so choked up when he died. Lara Jean tried to console her but she just locked herself in the bathroom and stayed there the entire night.

She saved other notes. They were tacked onto the board indiscriminately.

_Thanks for the save. You’re the best ever! Love, Riley._

_YOU KNOW WE WILDIN FOR YOUR BDAY!!! COUNTDOWN TO OCTOBER 29 BEGINS NOW!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH BABY GIRL– Natalie_

_HAPPY FRIEND-ANNIVERSARY!!! Thanks for looking out for me, bestie. You shouldn’t have hit Hannah in the face because it got you in trouble with the coach but it was so freaking funny and totally overdue. I love you so much!! I shouldn’t have laughed but she totally deserved it. You’ve always been super protective. I can’t thank you enough. I’m blessed to call you my best friend. Thank you for all the years together and so many more. – MARY. P.S your chem notes saved my ass!!_

_Your talent is infinite. Never sell yourself short. Wherever you go, great things will follow. Don’t be shy to visit. Your presence will be sorely missed. – G. Thompson._

_I’m glad we broke up. You’re right. You deserve better. I’m sorry for the things I said. Mary didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t ready to be loved. I hope you find someone that treats you right. – Leah. PS I always admired your loyalty. Never change._

_I know you’re hella gay but I had to say this before the summer ends: you’re the prettiest, smartest, funniest, and most charismatic girl in calc class. I didn’t think I’d ever be excited about a math class before but you changed my mind. Thank you for making this year memorable. Thank you so much for your help and kind words. I’ll always remember you as the girl who was so out of my league and still gave me the time of day. Text me this summer! I know THE best fried chicken joints in NYC. It’s the least I can do – I owe you big time – Your lab partner & lunch buddy, Brent. _

_I’m so proud of you. Congratulations on the study! You never cease to amaze me – Drew Corbin_

_Stanford is watching, kid. You’re going places – Coach A._

_I’m so sorry Nell. I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t have to talk to me ever again but I want you to know I regret it so much. I hurt you a lot and I can’t take that back. I know that. It wasn’t my place to say those things. I didn’t think it through. I’m supposed to protect you and I did the opposite. I didn’t know you were scared to tell them. I’m so sorry sis. I won’t ever forget your face when you were crushed. I did that. I hurt the person I love the most. You’re my baby sister and I let you down. No one thinks of you differently just because you like girls and not guys. We love you so much. With all the love in the world, your big bro.  I won’t tell dad you tried to break my lacrosse stick. I deserved that. No worries. Is your knee okay? It looked like it hurt.  I’m leaving for college tomorrow. If you need anything, I’m a call away. I know you don’t trust me anymore but someday maybe you will again when I prove to you I can earn it back._

_I’m sorry I called you a cry baby earlier. Mom told me Mr. Hardesty meant a lot to you. If you need to talk, I’m across the hall. Love you, your big sis._

 

For the first time in a long time, Peter cries.

 

She treasured all these notes and people in her life – enough to keep them in view.

Maybe she hadn’t closed herself off.

She just didn’t want people to see how vulnerable she really was.

He knew he was crossing a boundary. These weren’t his to see. However, it gave him an idea.

Lara Jean wrote him letters when she was feeling something intense. He would do that same.

 

_Dear Danielle,_

_I didn’t mean to pry. I know your privacy is sacred. I hope you can forgive me after hearing what I have to say._

_I know how you’re feeling. I finally get it. It took me a while but I think I figured it out._

_When my dad left, I felt like I wasn’t good enough. He replaced me and Owen so easily with a new set of kids. The favoritism was undeniable. When he came back a few years later asking to reconcile, I wasn’t having it. I couldn’t forgive him. He’d hurt me too much. He wasn’t there when I needed him. Why should he get to enjoy me now at my best years? He wasn’t there to build any of it. I shut him out and I vowed I’d never let him close again. My heart couldn’t take another break._

_I committed the same sin on you that my father had on me. I didn’t see it then but it’s clear as day now._

_Your mother and I always wanted a big family but we forgot how hard it is to raise so many kids at once. Owen wasn’t planned to come so soon but it happened. We had to adjust. In the mix, you didn’t receive the same kind of attention your sister or brothers did. It was unfair. I hope its not too late now to make up lost time. Your mother, too, but I’m confident she’ll tell you in her own words if you let her._

_Instead of letting it break you, you built yourself up to be the toughest version you could be. The smartest, hardest working version possible so to prove you could succeed. You made something out of yourself without our help because you felt like you had to. It hurts me more than I can bear to know I disappointed so much you had to think that way. I’m also so proud of you of becoming the intelligent, diligent, and loved young woman everyone looks up to._

_It won’t happen overnight but I hope eventually we can get back to a place where you feel like you can trust us again and that you’d want to share your accomplishments. We’re behind you 100% of the way. You don’t have to share your feelings if it’s too uncomfortable but we’re always hear if you don’t want to be alone._

_When I see you with your friends, I’m glad you can be yourself. You’re not guarded all the time. You shouldn’t be. I’m glad you aren’t. I’m so grateful you have a deep friendship with Mary. She’ll get you in more ways nobody else will. You found a lifelong friend and I’m so happy she’s there for you when you think no one else is. Don’t worry about distance – that means nothing when you have a bond that strong._

_Trust your teachers. You already knew that but hear me out. When they give you opportunities, don’t pass them up because you have a one-track mind. I know you’re scoffing at the idea but sometimes what we want isn’t always what we need. Consider all options before you shoot one down. I want you to fulfill your potential in the way it’s most recognized. If Stanford is what you want, I won’t get in your way, and if you ask, I’ll help in any way possible. Don’t be so quick to dismiss other opportunities though – life works in mysterious ways we don’t always see right away._

_I’m so proud of you, Nell. You have no idea how amazing I think you are. I just haven’t it shown enough. I promise to fix that from this point on._

_I love you so much,_

_Dad_

 

When Peter picks her up, she’s exhausted.

They both are.

She didn’t need to know that though.

She’s asleep five minutes within the car ride.

Owen plays with his phone in the backseat.

They had fun, he says. Lots of burgers, hot dogs, and potatoes. S’mores, too!

Her friends are really nice, Owen smiled. They should come over more often.


	14. Surprise Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nelle acts like A REAL teenager in a tantrum of a century  
> Peter gets more involved in his daughter's educational decisions  
> Big sister Katie makes an appearance - the first of many   
> It's not a smooth transition.

Sunday breakfasts couldn’t be anymore awkward.

First – Dad’s letter.

Danielle didn’t know where to even begin with that.

She was stunned when she read it. It was tacked on her special board – the one that reminded her of all the crucial moments and people in her life, for better or worse. He went into her room, read her most personal items, and then decided to add his two cents.

A touching two cents, two cents she definitely needed to hear for a long time, but still – it was a lot to take in at eight something in the morning.

Second – _Katie._

Katie who decided to drop in out of blue from Julliard – it’s not that far at all but she’d always be too busy to venture back home. Then there’s the whole moving in with Mitch which Dad wasn’t too pleased about… _that Katie_ , who then pops up one cloudy Sunday morning to mooch off of Mom’s and Dad’s food while she boasted about her musical achievements.

In a most ironic and fortunate twist, Danielle welcomed Katie’s presence. She distracted their parents. Basically, she took over the entire breakfast discussion and Danielle could avoid the giant white elephant in the room.  Owen was all too happy to entertain Danielle, limited conversation topics to only her friends – nothing about lacrosse. Like how much he really like Natalie and wanted to have her over again, and bring Chris, too, because he’s pretty cool, too. Luckily, Natalie loved Owen and was totally down for something to happen. Next Friday maybe, after practice. Owen was super hyped after hearing that.

However, Danielle did _not_ welcome Katie’s lingering figure as she finished up dishes. Danielle was half way done and was already scheming on other chores to do. Maybe wipe down the bathroom surfaces. Katie’s nose was super sensitive to chemicals. It’d keep her away. Hell, she even contemplated asking Davina if she wanted to run today, just to get out of the house, but that’d be too cruel – their legs were still so sore from yesterday’s game. She could also vacuum the living room! That would shut out Katie’s voice! She’d do that next. After that, she might just organize the garage. Katie hated the garage – too cold, too dusty, too web infested.

Vacuum, garage, bathroom… what else? 

Ooh! Halloween decorations! Katie loved to decorate but she didn’t like carrying things down from the garage rafters. Usually that took about half-an-hour alone. Danielle could totally do that. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

Her dad would probably offer to help. He loved that stuff. Danielle wasn’t sure she was ready for that conversation but at this point, she’d take that any day over Katie’s nauseating voice.

_Hey Dad – read your letter – real touching. Thanks for the reassuring words. I’d rather not weigh on the past. I’ll probably cry and I hate crying and no one needs to see me cry. Got it? Okay. Great! We have clean slate! Cool! Help me with this giant plastic pumpkin you impulsively bought three years ago._

She waited for her tea to finish brewing, desperate for something to keep her mouth occupied before it snapped.

For the meanwhile, she offered nothing more than indiscriminate hums in response to Katie’s incessant questions. She was starting to scrub a little too rough, finally getting the burnt egg bit off the pan.

The Keurig finally clicked – the cycle was done! All she had to do was enjoy the aroma of hot water and the peppermint blended together.

“Ah, for fuck’s sakes, finally,” she moaned – the cup was steaming up and peppermint was cool against her tongue. She enjoyed a long sip, then another, and another.

“ _Wow_ ,” Katie dragged out, “real words. Over tea. I don’t even get one.” She looked genuinely offended.

_You don’t deserve one._

That’d be too mean.

Danielle shrugged. 

Katie was her father’s daughter. She _had_ her dad’s curly brown hair until she dyed it an ungodly platinum blonde (and permed it straight as could be) – which she would have to redo because Danielle could totally see her dark roots. She maybe had a little bit of their mother’s face – the eye shape definitely - but generally Katie had father’s mold. What set her apart was  her hazel eyes – an attribute from their maternal mother. She was tall, too – 6’0. Pretty impressive if it wasn’t for the fact it looked like she could break in half given how skinny she was. It was a natural and healthy weight but 145 for a 6’0 could appear worrisome. She had been approached before for modeling but she turned it down. Wasn’t her scene. She was too committed to music – piano, preferably. 

All of that didn’t help squash her ego.

One the main reasons Danielle couldn’t stand her sister was primarily because of her ego. Danielle had one, too, which was fine. The big difference between her and her big sister was this: she didn’t boast about to be condescending the way Katie did. Danielle liked to think she was at least a little humble. Katie wouldn’t even know what the word meant. Danielle used her talents to help her teachers and help her peers – so what if she got a little praise along the way. A little gratitude is always appreciated. Katie just wanted to the center of attention – the girl with all the admirers.

Their parents being her biggest one.

No, Danielle reminded herself. She was not going to regress back to that state of mind. She promised herself she’d give him a clean slate – that’s what she’d do.

As for her mom… Danielle still had yet to figure that one out. Dad had a pretty well thought out apology. Mom was still too fucking nosy for her own good. Even Oliver’s apology didn’t make the cut. You can’t put someone on the spot like that and expect them to be okay. You don’t take someone’s choice away from them.

“ _Hello!_ ” Katie waved her hand in Danielle’s face. “Earth to Danny.”

 _Call me Danny one more time,_ Danielle’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t help but glare.

“Chill out,” Katie returned sharply. “Jesus, you’re so uptight.”

“Are you going to bother to help clean?” Danielle pursed her lips, “or are you going to stand there being useless? Because if you are, stand somewhere else please.”

Katie’s eyes widened and she slowly hopped off the stool. Danielle’s cool and detached voice stung her more than she cared to admit.

“Geez, are you on your cycle or something? You’re moodier than ever,” Katie crunched her nose.

Danielle doesn’t dignify her with an answer. Instead, she starts to make her way to the laundry closet where she was certain the vacuum was unless someone else moved it. She rolled it out and uncoiled the cord once she plopped it onto the carpet. She grabbed her phone and plugged in her ear pods, a remix of a popular hit steaming from the tiny speakers.

Katie plops onto the couch, arms crossed, and face in a scowl.

Danielle ignores her a good minute, plugging the cord into the wall. She covers half the room until she skims by the couch and catches a glimpse of her sister in her peripheral.

“ _Help_ ,” Danielle mouthed, “ _or go_.” She gestures with a harsh nod to the door.

She said something but Danielle can’t hear and doesn’t want to.

Her earbuds are violently tugged out of her ear.

“What the Fuck?” Danielle yelled, clutching her sore temples.

“I want to talk to my little sister but she’s being a brat,” Katie exclaimed.

“Said-little-bratty-sister has shit to do,” Danielle snarled. “Go talk to Owen. He misses his big sister.”

“And you don’t?” Katie bellowed over the screaming machine.

“No,” Danielle replied tersely.

That knocked Katie off her feet. She stared in amazement as Danielle resumed the chore, very blatantly ignoring her.

She wasn’t going to be one of Katie’s lackeys. She didn’t adore her big sister. They never had a bond. Ever. Quite the opposite. Katie was always insecure about her place as Daddy’s little Girl since Danielle’s birth – not that she’d ever have an issue – and would incessantly demand his attention, especially if he was trying to converse with Danielle. And if Mom ever spared her a glance – heaven forbid – Katie pulled out all the stops to retain all eyes on her.

To say they had a sibling rivalry was a severe understatement.

Danielle resented her sister for resenting her.

It was simple as that.

Now Katie was trying to win brownie points and gain another hapless audience for her own benefit. Not happening, not if Danielle could help it.

“Seriously?” Katie scrambled around the table to obstruct her sister’s path.

They were only an inch apart now – practically eye to eye. When she was just a kid, Katie had the height advantage. She’d always use it to intimidate Danielle. Danielle wouldn’t take it lightly though. There was something unsettling about Danielle’s dark eyes when they set on you – like they could see through you, Mary once said. Ever since she started to use them to full effect, she’s noticed a lot of people tended to back down real quick.

Like just then – when Danielle hardened her eyes and set her lips in a sneer – Katie actually bowed a little, like she had been burned.

“I have to finish cleaning,” Danielle ordered. She rolled around her, reclaiming her earbuds as she passed. Katie looked in astonishment, surprised by Danielle’s animosity, before retreating to the backyard where her parents were raking.

 

“What’s up Danny’s ass?” Katie yelled angrily.

Both parents look up in alarm as their eldest daughter burst out onto the patio.

Lara Jean and Peter shared an apprehensive look.

“She’s going through some stuff” Peter said at the same time Lara Jean stammered “She’s dealing with emotional things”.

“Well, she doesn’t need to take it out on me!” Katie huffed.

“What did she say to you?” Peter’s brows furrowed, troubled.

“Nothing! She’s ignoring me! And when I told her I want to talk, she’s told me to go to Owen instead. What the hell??”

“Hasn’t she always ignored you though?” Lara Jean pondered. Relationship between the two sisters had always been non-existent since she could remember.

“Yeah, when we were kids! We’re grown up now! She’s turning 16 in two weeks!  I want to do something special for her! And she won’t hear me out!”

Peter shook his head. “Sweetheart,” he frowned, “I don’t think you’ll get an answer. She’s been going through some motions. She hasn’t even mentioned her birthday in a long time.”

“It’s her sixteenth!” Katie hoisted her arms up.

 “And she hasn’t even driven quarter of the hours she needs to move on from her permit. I don’t think she’s as serious about the 16th birthday as you were,” Lara Jean tightened her lips into a stern line.

“How can she not??”

“She’s never been serious about her birthday, Katie,” Peter shrugged.

Since her tenth party, she’d be uninterested. She’d blow the candles off her cake and go upstairs to do homework. Making her stay for the full thing was more like punishment than a party. She didn’t ask for many presents other than things she needed for labs. Maybe the only exception was her annual dinner with the Winslow family. Mary would drag her to dinner and she’d stay the night. That, and it was around the same time as Halloween.

“She’s such a party pooper,” Katie scowled. “I want her to do something fun! Instead of moping around in her room all day.”

“I think her friend Natalie is taking her somewhere,” Peter thought, recalling her note. She had been more active than usual – going out to functions with at least four of her lacrosse friends. Natalie was one, Anna, someone with an R, and another. Ellen?  

“Still – her friends are dull. Like Mary! All they do is watch stupid ER dramas and eat Oreos. She needs a real party.”

“Not her scene,” Lara Jean shook her head. “She should just do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Do you even know what you’re going to get her?” Katie made a face. “She hasn’t said anything about wanting something.”

“New shoes, maybe,” Peter shrugged. He was going to get her a new pair anyways.

“I thought we were getting her a new computer,” Lara Jean knitted her brows. “She’s been complaining about how slow her laptop is. She’s been using the same one since middle school.”

“We’ll just have to ask her later tonight,” Peter replied.

“Or we can ask her now,” Lara Jean gestured to the door. Peter recognized the figure emerging.

 “Hey Dad,” Danielle joined the trio. She had changed from her white knit cardigan to a navy-blue blazer, looking much more professional with her hair pulled into a bun.

“You look nice honey – are you going somewhere?” Lara Jean asked.

“I’m going to meet Drew – my freshman chemistry teacher. He has a friend he wants to introduce me to,” she said – still keeping eye contact with Peter, Lara Jean observed with gritted teeth – and then attempted to retreat.

“ _Whoa-whoa-whoa_ ,” Peter interrupted. “Who are you meeting with? Why are you meeting teachers outside of school?”

“Networking, you know, the thing you do when people get your name in certain circuits in the hopes you score future opportunities,” she deadpans. Peter scowls. “He wants me to meet his Columbia buddy. It’s just a courtesy. I have no intention of saying yes.”

“Yes to what?” Lara Jean followed, alarmed.

“ ** _No_** to Columbia,” Danielle states as if it’s the most obvious thing. Finally, her daughter looks at her, but she doesn’t appreciate the way Danielle squints her eyes in mockery – as if calling her mother dumb.

“ _WHAT_ ,” both parents burst.

“So let me get this straight,” Peter contorts his face, bewildered. “You’re going to go to coffee with your teacher who’s introducing you to a guy – no, a representative – from Columbia and you’re going to turn them down??”

“Recruiter, or department head, one of the two,” Danielle shrugs, “but yeah, pretty much.”

“Absolutely not!” Peter drops his rake. “I’m coming with you.” He makes his way up the stairs and across the patio, passing her and into the kitchen.

“No!” Danielle gapes, following him inside. “I do this all the time! I’m fine without parental supervisor. I only told you so you’d know I’d be out! Jesus, I could have just left without warning or lied saying I was going to a friends. Come on! You can’t be serious!”

“Dead serious,” Peter answered with stern eyes. “We’re going to hear them out. You’re going to consider what they have to say. You don’t have to say anything – just listen. I want to be there because I want to be involved in these big decision. I’m a parent, it’s something we’re supposed to do. My roof, my rules. I’ll meet you in the car,” he points.

“They aren’t your decisions to make!” Danielle raised her tone. “They won’t take me seriously when you’re there acting like my sound box!”

“You’ve done this before?” Peter questioned.

“YES! With Duke and Penn!” Danielle scowled. “What they were offering wasn’t something I wanted.”

“And what was that?!” Peter retorted, alarmed his daughter rejected personal offers from Duke and Penn.

“Penn’s program doesn’t rank as high as the other schools I’ve been considering. They were interested in me for some pharmaceutical program because Corbin put in a good word for me regarding my chemical imbalance thesis I submitted to a national study that summer. I wasn’t going to be stuck at Penn for some program I want nothing to do with. I want to do surgical work, not research for prescriptions.”

“What were they offering? A full ride??”

Danielle’s silence was deafening.

“A FULL RIDE TO PENN??”

“Didn’t want it,” Danielle mumbled.

He leaned against the counter, clutching his chest. 

“Oh God…” he breathed. “You’re going put me in an early grave.” He exhaled heavily. “Okay, pray tell, why did you turn down Duke?”

“I didn’t want to be stationed literally over the river,” she gestured towards that direction. “Again, as I said for Penn, they were offering a program I’m not interested in! They only care about research because that’s what Corbin has been selling and I don’t feel like repeating chemistry class twenty-four-seven.”

“I know I’m going to regret this,” he pinched his nose, “what were they offering?”

“All paid for by scholarship and grants,” Danielle shuffled her feet, “so, no cost to me.”

Peter collapsed into the chair.

“You – you did that all by yourself? You told them no, _by yourself?_ ” Peter’s mouth was ajar.

“I told them I was flattered by their gracious offer but unfortunately my interests didn’t align with that particular sector,” Danielle shrugged. “Corbin has been really kicking it with this research stuff and thinks I’d be a good candidate for it. I appreciate his praises but I don’t agree.”

Peter was at a loss for words.

“He has friends all over who he ships my stuff to, then they call me, and we all have coffee or brunch. I get a free frappe, I kill an hour, he gets slapped on the back for teaching such a bright student, and I add one more name to my network list – it’s worthwhile. I am meeting some woman from John Hopkins two Thursdays from now at Peninsula right after practice. He’s still advocating for the research angle but if I can make them consider opening up those same opportunities substituting the surgical program instead, maybe I’ll entertain them.”

“What about Harvard?” Peter croaks.

“Greg is the one with the Harvard ties,” Danielle shoots a dry look, the same one she shot Lara Jean moments ago. “I love him – he’s amazing – and Harvard has a phenomenal surgical program. The problem is he wants me to go into math. All his praises stem from math. The offers I get stem from the math department. I get math just fine. I don’t want to make a career out of it.”

“Full ride??”

“Pretty much – the scholarship would have covered maybe seventy percent and the grants would have cover the rest and then some.”

“Oh, kid,” he pumped his chest. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Can I go now? I don’t want to make a bad impression.”

“In a second. I need to regain a stable heartbeat. I’ll grab the keys.”

“Without you!”

“Not a chance,” he shook his head. “After what you just told me – let’s just hear them out before you go burning another full ride, okay?”

“ _Fine!!_ ”

Lara Jean comes in at that moment and stares in shock at Peter’s distraught form.

“What happened?” she cried, running to his side.

“Our daughter,” he coughed, “is a monster.”

“I’m not!!” Danielle growled.

“Penn! Duke! Harvard! Kid – what is wrong with you?” Peter blinked.

That was the wrong thing to say to Danielle. Peter knew it the moment the words spilled from his mouth. He cringed. Her face contorted from offense to disbelief to amusement.

“Nothing it wrong with me,” she replied harshly – looking up and down as if to weigh him. The look was universal across the board. _Who do you think **you** are?_ “I’m a hot commodity  and I _get_ to be picky. They come to me, not the other way around,” she wagged her finger. “This is _my_ future, _my_ interests, and I will not let some jockey in a suit tell me they’re the best thing that happened to me. Doesn’t work that way, _pops_. See, they are putting a price on _my_ intellectual property. They are buying rights to whatever I discover and possibly patent under their study. There is a price for affiliation – whatever great achievement I make looks good on them just by mere association. That’s what they’re a buying and I’m not selling myself cheap just because they have a good reputation. What may seem like the top tier to you is like the bottom scraps for me,” Danielle hissed.

She turned on her heel towards the door.

“I’m walking!”

“No you are not!” Peter hollered, getting onto his feet.

“Someone struck a nerve,” Lara Jean gaped with bewildered eyes.

“I guess so,” Peter clenched his teeth. Wrong move, Peter. Wrong move. He makes one step forward and two steps back. “At least I can trust the kid to haggle a good deal,” he shrugged.

He kissed Lara Jean’s cheek and rushed out, catching up with Danielle’s figure down the driveway.

“In the car,” he ordered.

Danielle shot him a heated look but nonetheless obliged.

“Fine,” she growled, “but there are rules.”

“Hey, I’m the parent,” Peter tried to take back the reigns but was surprised by Danielle’s glare.

“Being my parent doesn’t mean shit at these things,” she scowled, surprising him. “They aren’t interested in you. You’re the background! You don’t make a peep unless they address you personally! This will be like an interview. They are going to ask _me_ questions. They are going to pitch _me_ some lowball deal that any buffoon would take in a heartbeat but I’ve heard it all. They’ll realize I can’t conned into taking a half ass scholarship to save them some pretty pennies and start spicing up the pot. That’s where I dictate the conversation. You don’t say shit. You stand there, pretend to be supportive, and when all is said and done, you shake their hands and we exit. This isn’t my first rodeo but it sure as hell is yours.”

Peter stammered. “ _Pretend??_ What? Danielle, I’m not pretending! Second, we will be having a conversation about how you talk to me! This is not appropriate. You can’t talk down to me!”

She replied with a look: _try me_.

Peter wanted for his daughter to be more open and expressive – not like this.

“I didn’t ask you to come. I didn’t want you to come. You just imposed yourself on something you have no business in. You come in, make me look like I can’t make decisions on my own, and I can’t stand being undermined in front of people who are supposed to take me seriously. These are people who want me – not my self-appointed manager. I’m my own self-representing individual. You are completely undermining that!”

“I’m not your self-appointed manager! I’m your parent! I’m supposed to be involved and curious! _I am!_ ” Peter was absolutely bewildered by her hostility.

“No, you jumped in because you don’t like me making decisions without you,” she pointed accusingly. “The moment I told you I dismissed school _you_ like, you acted like I can’t make those decisions anymore. You didn’t take into consideration why I dismissed them. I’m not going to a school that’s not going to offer me the funds to for the programs I want! I’m not going to Harvard for math. That’s all they were offering! I’m not going to Duke for research. That’s the only thing they were pitching! Jesus fucking Christ! Mom would be better suited for this than you are and I’m not even touching on that!”

“Okay,” he took in her words slowly. They hurt, a little, to be honest, but Peter realized Danielle may have had a point. “So you have an issue with control.”

“I HAVE A CONTROL ISSUES?” she ended on a squeak. If he could take a picture of her face, he would’ve. It was so unusual to see Danielle so riled. “Holy shit! Oh my God! Are you out of your goddamn mind right now? WHERE DO THINK I GET THEM? HOLY SHIT! DID THOSE WORDS JUST COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH? I’m in Twilight Zone. I can’t believe this.”

“You might want to calm down before we get to the coffee shop – assuming it’s the same one you usually go to,” he stopped before the stoplight.

“CALM DOWN? WHEN HISTORY HAS TELLING SOMEONE CALM DOWN EVER DE-ESCALATED A SITUATION?” Danielle threw her head back in a loud groan, hitting the console with a fisted hand.

“Watch the car,” Peter warned.

“Fuck my life!” She cried out. “No, take a right,” she directed roughly, glaring ahead. Peter switched turn lanes promptly, thanking no one was there. “It’s the one by the elementary school, not the high school.”

“You were going to walk two and half miles??”

“I’ve done it all the time!!”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“So are you!!”


	15. Means to an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary comes through with a revelation that should have been very obvious  
> Peter is at a loss for words - until Danielle turns down another great college offer.   
> Other misc. stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler chapter to cover up some questions - like how did she get so smart and yadda?   
> Just more backstory.   
> BONDING WILL COME SOON. PROMISE. NEXT CHAPTER.   
> Also, more Lara Jean!! Desperate daughter and mother time is needed and will be satisfied.... 
> 
> I just needed to get the juice flowing  
> Finishing up senior year of uni this week (ONE MORE SEMESTER) and it's not fun. UGH.

Danielle was exasperated. She sighed and huffed up a storm the entire ten-minute drive to the coffee shop. She briefly greeted Drew at the corner table next to the front windows. Rather than endure being part of a three-part discussion between parent-child-and-teacher, Danielle excused herself to wait in the long line for coffee.

A much-needed _venti_ caramel macchiato, she thought. She’d happily wait behind the 10-some customers to escape her dad. She bounced from there so fast, he didn’t even time to reach for his wallet. Nah, she was going to pay for her own damn coffee, and she was going to enjoy every exaggerated sip just to avoid conversation.

Meanwhile, Peter had _lots_ of questions.

Is it normal to invite fifteen-year-old girls to life-changing meetings by themselves? Has it ever occurred to her teacher to consult her parents first?? Is it allowed under school policy for outside-classroom student-teacher meet-ups??? Oh, she’s independent and can make her own decisions???? _NO, SHE CAN’T! SHE IS A TEENAGER!!_

Instead, despite every fiber in his being ready to explode, Peter played nice with the person who may or may not have had a hand in giving Danielle an open door to Columbia. Drew was a very animated guy and couldn’t help himself – Danielle was the best possible  pupil he could have ever been bestowed in his twenty-some years of teaching. Did that shine up Peter’s ego a little bit? Maybe. Was he entitled to feel proud? According his daughter, he suspected, probably not. Was he? Very much so.

“What sets her apart from everyone else?” He probed.

After all, she was admitted into a selective private high school. It was her idea. They were fine with whatever school she chose – public or private – but Danielle insisted on _this_ single academy. It wasn’t something you could buy yourself into. It was funded by private donors and admitted students on the basis of their intellect. It was no cost to students who could prove they could exceed expectations. It was small but highly commended. _Very_ selective.

(Because of its small scale, it often partnered with other schools into a decently sized athletic league. Four affiliated schools came together in a single program, like the one Oliver got into.)

Peter didn’t know anything of this until she asked him to sign conformational paperwork. She was just thirteen, finishing up eight grade. He had been blindsided by her initiative to choose her own high school but then again, she had     witnessed them help Katie into LaGuardia. (That was an ordeal – Katie’s stress levels were through the roof before the audition).

The school was the best rated in its sciences, Danielle boasted, and her teachers and counselors confirmed it. The school had brought in the best professors from ivy leagues and nationally renown experts. The opportunities gifted to the students like much better than what other facilities could offer. The had a high ivy league admittance for graduates.

Danielle did all her necessary research and _aced_ the entrance exam – one of the top scores, actually, Peter remembered from the paperwork. She was immediately propelled into classes with peers’ older than herself. She was the only freshman in her Calculus class. The theme continued – she was a sophomore in a class full of seniors this year. Which one? He kind of forgot…. Physics, maybe.

He wanted to be involved but Danielle had this pesky habit of keeping them at arm’s length. She’d tell them last minute of parent-teaching meetings, if at all. He was lucky to even attend one or two. Lara Jean actually outwitted Danielle the next semester by asking her teachers directly for dates. That’s how they became more proactive, much to their daughter’s frustration.

That brief conversation ended on two conclusions:

One, Danielle was set to graduate _early_. _Really early_. Like next year – because while mentally it felt like her second year of high school, she had already advanced to junior-senior level classes! Her entrance exams _really_ skyrocketed her curriculum. She only have a few more classes left before she was set free a year earlier than anticipated! Which was why her teachers were pressing the question of college so urgently. Peter could feel his heart pump blood more erratically than it ever had before.

Two, Danielle was a certified genius. It wasn’t just an exaggeration he and Lara Jean often exchanged. Nope. It was _verified_. Danielle had consented to an IQ test – the _legit_ one administered by Drew’s ivy league friends – and the results came back: an agreed average (she took it 5 times) of **146**. _Certified genius._ No one would have suspected, given her quiet, unassuming nature, but her work said it all. (She also registered on the Myer’s Brigg’s test as an INTP – _The Thinker_. No surprise there.)

No wonder so many colleges and universities were coming out of the woodwork to get her attention.

“So, you just tested her out of the blue? Or because she’s a decent student?” Peter pressed. It was _a lot_ to take in.

“Oh no,” Corbin shook his head furiously. “Let me tell you something,” the teacher leaned forward – hands clasped in one another over the table. “Thompson does this thing every year.  He introduces the class to a challenge – this unsolvable math either from his own fashion or in the mathematical world in general. Like the Hodge Conjecture or the Riemann Hypothesis. He makes a proposition – solve this problem, show me proof, and I’ll award you x amount of points. Lets’ say a hundred-and-fifty maybe. Enough for an easy B. Students don’t even get close despite having this insanely intelligent pool. They try which pleases him immensely but they don’t get close. Last year, he proposed one of his own equations – something he’s been working on but couldn’t quite get. He was welcoming any insight maybe he’d get a breakthrough. _And he did._ ” 

He suddenly pointed to Danielle, now only behind three people. “ _That one **solved** it_. Didn’t just help but actually **solved** it. Took her two months,” he held up his fingers, “but that genius solved it. He spent two years and in a matter of months, she gave him the finished product. She came up to him with a notebook full of notes, told him to take his time looking over her work, and returned to her desk as if she didn’t just drop the Nagasaki of bombs,” Corbin slaps the back of hand into his open palm for an audible slap.

“He spent the next month and a half examining her work, shared it with us, with his Harvard friends, and they all verified it was _sound_. Thompson couldn’t believe it. The next year, after rigorous practices and side-projects her asked to do – all of which she excelled at – he did the same for the next year, new challenge. She took it up like a champ. Two and half months later, bam, solved. Proof is in her notes. All three of them. He has them in a vault somewhere. She managed to earn a lifetime spot in his good graces and he was – and is – dead set to send her to Harvard to finish the work. Only,” Corbin chuckled, “she’s a bit stubborn. He’d happily use his name to have all her expenses covered. He thinks she’d do wonders in math but she’d determined to go through pre-med.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Peter smiled meekly.

“As for me, I already knew she was talented. When Thompson told me the news, it only verified what I knew. Danielle is immaculate with her work. She is thorough and no stone is turned when she’s concerned. Her mind goes beyond the scope of what’s on the table. She doesn’t accept any limits. She poses ideas and ingenious solutions to problems that would stump everyone else. Sometimes it’s a bit unorthodox and risky but that’s the kind of out-of-box thinking our industry needs. That kind of innovation is what allows science to thrive and people like her thrive in science! She’d be a wonderful fit for pre-med. I’ve been trying to get her to focus on research because she’d excel in it but she wants to expand her horizons to surgery – which is commendable and if that’s what she wants, her work speaks for itself.  Godspeed to her. Any university would be lucky to have her in their ranks. Penn kicked themselves in the ass with their offer. I told her to turn it down because her potential wouldn’t have been recognized. I was surprised to learn she wasn’t inclined to follow up with Duke. She’s picky and I’m hoping with all the prep-talk I gave him my buddy Michael will be able to persuade her to take up Columbia.”

 

 _FAT FUCKING CHANCE COLUMBIA_ , Danielle wanted to scream. The entire time she had been waiting, she was rehearsing her ‘ _I’m interested_ ’ face. Sure, Columbia was a great school for pre-med, but she was getting the fuck away from New York (in general, not just the city, but the actual state) as soon as possible!

She was waiting for her macchiato, looking over to Drew who was conversing animatedly to her father. Her father was soaking it up. She rolled her eyes and groaned lowly.

“Something wrong?” an elderly gentleman asked, annoyed.

“College is awful,” she gritted her teeth. “Meddling parents are worse.”

He laughed and had the _audacity_ to pat her back.

“Suck it up, kid,” he bid before leaving the shop with his black concoction. Her burning eyes followed him out, seconded by a notable sneer.

 _No boundaries, whatsoever_ , she seethed.

“Good luck, Danielle,” the cute blonde barista bid, memorizing the name written on the cup. She overheard it all. Her words were welcomed and Danielle thanked her with a smile. “I’m going through the same Hell. Parents are pushing for Syracuse. I want Villanova. I never hear the end of it.”

“Villanova all the way,” Danielle winked.

“ _Thank you!_ ” she – Colleen, according to her name tag – exclaimed.

“Off to executioner’s block,” Danielle sang, waving her hand high.

“Your martyrdom will be recorded in the history books,” Colleen winked – clicking her tongue simultaneously. “Don’t forget this,” she offered a napkin.

“Thank you!” Danielle snatched before crossing the coffee shop – deliberately slow.

 

The hour was excruciating. The whole time Michael was boasting about Columbia, she could feel her father’s eyes bore into her. _Are you hearing this? Are you going to give this up?? Danielle, look – it’s Columbia! What a wonderful opportunity!! Do for it me!!!_ Oh, she probed questions. A lot of them. By the look on Drew’s face, he was under the impression she was biting – but alas, she could win an Oscar for her actress worthy performance.

Columbia was offering a full ride. Surprise, surprise – not really – for – you guessed it – _research!_ They wanted her to be behind the scenes when she wanted to be hands deep in a chest cavity! There was one thing to do research for pre-med – it was kind of a necessity – but she would not be holed up or boxed in to one single discipline when she wanted to encapsulate everything pre-med desired to fulfill a Grad worthy application.

She wanted to be a surgeon, not a scientist.

Danielle could major in anything – so long she took all the course pre-med mandated. Half these offers were open to her expanding the course list to cover those, outside just math and research-based majors like Chemistry or Physics. Thing is – when you major in something like Chemistry, people tend to think you’d excel at lab related work contrary to actual surgery. 

Danielle kept it classy. _Thank you for your time. Pleasure to meet you. We’ll be in touch. Have a good one!_

When he left, she thanked Drew for the opportunity and promised to see him tomorrow (Monday) for their usual review. She had began assisting and tutoring as a means for extra credit – as if she needed anymore – but it certain helped her application. And it bid time, too. She liked being busy.

The car ride home was going to be unbearable.

 

Peter was beaming.

“So,” he jittered, “what do you think? Columbia put in a good offer!”

“No,” Danielle cut it off at the head. Swift and clean.

“Really?!”

“I’m getting out of New York,” Danielle shook her head. “No Cornell. No Columbia.”

“Kid!!”

“NO!!”

 

“Full ride to Columbia??” Lara Jean asked, aghast.

Peter nodded furiously. “Yep. Corbin told me everything. She could major in anything for pre-med. Okay, maybe not, but the stuff she’s good at? The stuff she wants to do?? That’s covered under pre-med requisites! That’s what she wants! Chemistry, included! She’s good in chemistry! So good! And math! And math can get her into Harvard, no charge! But no! She turned down Penn because she was going to be shoehorned into a certain program that didn’t agree with her surgical pursuits! And he agreed!! Then Duke… I don’t know why… I’m getting mad thinking about it…. And Columbia and Cornell?? Great surgical programs!! She got offers to do chemical research – it would cover most of the pre-med requisites except for like one or two – but that was deal breaker! She’s not interested – oh – and better yet, she has no intention of staying in New York. She’s packing up and getting the hell out of dodge!”

Peter was infuriated. Not at anyone in particular. Just frustrated with the circumstances.

“For a genius, she’s making real dumb decisions right now,” Peter growled, pacing in and out of the kitchen.

“Still stuck on Harvard?”

Wrong question to ask when seeing his face turn a new shade of red, more intense than ever before.

“ _THAT KID CAN MAJOR IN ANYTHING – THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT MAJORS – THEY ONLY CARE OF PRE-REQS AND GPA!!_ ” Peter growled, collapsing onto the couch with a roar. “BUT NOOOO! CALIFORNIA OR NOTHING!!”

Lara Jean winced and made sure to add a generous amount of coffee in his cup.

 

“Dad’s blowing a vein,” Danielle groaned into the phone. She sprawled herself on the bed, preparing tomorrow’s insane workload. She was almost done. “He doesn’t get it. He never will.”

“You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be,” Mary replied. “There’s always Harvard. They have the best pre-med program in the country, globally known You can always use math as your major – that’ll be a breeze – and maybe flex some of your connections to cover some side courses to fulfill the pre-med requirements.  I guarantee it, you could finagle Thompson to persuade Harvard to cover those, too.”

Danielle whined. “I want to leave the east coast. I’m waiting for UCLA and Stanford. They haven’t put in an offer. UCLA is the only one to give me confirmation I’m at least on the priority list. I should be hearing a response any day. If it comes to it, I’d pick UCLA rather than bide my time any longer.”

“That’s dumb,” Mary said.

If that was from anyone else, Danielle would chew them out. It was from Mary though and Danielle appreciated Mary’s perspective.

“You’re choosing location over opportunity. UCLA may grant you residency so when you get into Grad, it won’t kill ya – that is, if you don’t get a full ride which I bet you will. You’re too good for them to not finesse that kind of deal.” Mary’s confidence in her was always gratifying. “But,” Mary added, “if you have Harvard on your list, take it. They have top credibility and resources. No charge to you. That’s the deal of a century. You got yourself in because you solved Thompson’s insane math problem – thank you for crediting me, too, by the way. Easiest B in my life.” Danielle chuckled.

“Anytime,” Danielle replied earnestly. “You did spend hours with me trying to solve the damn thing. It was the least I could do.”

Both of them practically did everything together.

When Danielle was dead set on Manning MS (Math and Science) School, she convinced Mary to apply to. Mary was skeptical but Danielle all but demanded she at least _try_. They studied rigorously on the weekends and Danielle was certain Mary was going to choke her. Time came for the entrance exam and they _passed_! Mary did wonderfully and now, as a sophomore, she was reaping the rewards. Her options were limitless. Rebecca was so relieved. Even Northwestern was sniffing around, probing about Mary’s academia. If Danielle was honest, Mary was aiming low to return back to Minnesota but she knew she would get in, no problem, and that was where her heart lied. If Mary could support Danielle’s neurotic obsession with Stanford, Danielle was going to double the effort to gas her best friend up in her pursuit of hometown excellence.

“Also, I heard back from the U of M! I’ll tell you about that later. Back to Harvard! It’s four hours away – come on – with traffic? Easily! Sure it’s still in winter-territory but we all have to make sacrifices. You can tolerate another four years of the Atlantic cold front. All for the greater good of epic Grad school selections, am I right?”

“You’re right,” Danielle pouted.

“So, will you talk to Thompson about that offer?”

“I hate you so much right now,” Danielle kicked wildly.

“Lies, you love me,” Mary chuckled. “I’m just your daily reminder of common sense. You get too fixed on some things. I love that about you. Never one to waver from your goals. On the other hand, some things go out of focus when you get into a certain mode and that’s why I’m here – to bring them back to frame!”

“I’ll ask Thompson. I hate to think I’m using him for med school. He really wants me to pursue math. Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I want to do it all my life,” she whined.

“Thompson just wants you to succeed. If he can help you any way he can, he will. You have him wrapped around your finger,” Mary grinned from her end of the line. “You’ve spent all your time wanting Stanford, you missed the certain appeal of Stanford wanting you and what’s more appealing to Stanford Med than a Harvard undergrad with glowing recommendations, multiple mentions in national studies, and a genius IQ?

“You’re right,” Danielle shrugged, a grin slowly growing on her.

“I know I am!” Mary replied cheekily. “You know I love it when you say that,”.

“I know,” Danielle chuckled. “That’s why I say it!”

“I love you!!”

“Love you, too!!”


	16. A Breakthrough II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally has a heart to heart with Danielle  
> Deep stuff follows  
> Most of it sappy  
> Ends on a good note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: a minor trigger warning; a brief mention of suicide is included. Nothing graphic but definitely notable.  
> This chapter goes in a lot of directions. Angsty, angry, sad, mopey, happy, etch... 
> 
> BUT THINGS ARE LOOKING UP!!!! 
> 
> The next few chapters will be dedicated to other relationships.  
> Best friend Mary will lead into Lara Jean... etch, etch. 
> 
> Thanksgiving is coming soon, too, and the whole family will be in town. THAT'LL BE FUN!! It'll be nice to get a grasp on those relationships. Unlike her immediately family, I feel like she had a decent relationship with her grandparents, especially her grandpa Dan whom she was named after. Her aunties are a bit wrapped around the twins but she has a soft spot for Kitty because they share some likeness. 
> 
> But like any other holiday, drama usually follows. More Katie-Danielle beef will pop up again. It won't pretty probably.
> 
> BUT BEFORE THAT  
> I'm halfway through a fluffy Halloween-Birthday Bash chapter for healing purposes.

After Peter calmed down, it began to reflect.

Danielle was _definitely_ his daughter. More so than Katie. More than Ollie. More than Owen! How did he not see it before?

Her mannerisms, slightly violent temper, and habit of shutting people out as a mechanism to protect herself. Maybe the latter was something Lara Jean would do but the only difference was Lara Jean hated confrontation – Danielle had no problem dishing it out. She had a way with words that pierced like bullets and she could not keep cool when provoked. That was something Peter could identify with.

He also needed to address the letter. She hadn’t talked about it at all. Avoided it, actually. He wasn’t going to let it be easy.

She could shut people out easily. She had done that with her older siblings. Ollie received the coldest end of it. Katie was now just feeling the chill. Her parents had acclimated to the chilling silence. Not anymore, Peter decided.

When she lashed out, she was raw. It hurt him to see her so angry and hurt but when she was so open and fresh, he knew he had the access he needed to breakthrough.

Things were going to change. She was just a teenager and wanted to act like an adult. She was so used to getting her way and doing as she pleased. No checks. No boundaries. No permission asked. None of that, Peter had decided early on. She was going to fight him tooth and nail but he wasn’t putting up with it anymore. She was going to act her age – a fifteen-almost-sixteen-years-old, not twenty-something. Reinforcements would be imposed, whether she liked it or not.

For the longest time, her parents identified her as the loner. The quiet type.

Now, he realized for what she was: the rebel. A hardened rebel.

She despised rules. She refused to do what people told or asked her to do. She’d do it on her vocation. She made the calls. She called the shots. She just made the best of her devices to get her the opportunities she wanted. Had it not been at his expense, Peter would have been all the more prouder. She embodied independence and ambition. She proved she could do it on her own.

When Katie was trying to get into LaGuardia and Julliard, she was a bunch of nerves. She needed constant reassurance and support. Her parents were eager to cheer her on. Ollie was more confident in his abilities but he could always find his father and mother on the sidelines, egging him on.

Danielle did everything she did without so much as making a peep. She did everything in her power to exclude them. She was making a point: _I can do this without you._ She sure did. Peter was conflicted: should he be proud or offended? Can he be both??

He was more curious as to why: what did he and Lara Jean do to deserve to be shut out?

 

A rap on the door went unnoticed until Danielle caught a figure looming in her doorway.

She immediately tugged the earbuds from her ears and squinted.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Can we talk?” Her dad asked.

She whined but relented. “Fine. Make it quick. I have to go the bed soon.”

His expression hardened but whatever he had to say died on his tongue.

He made himself comfortable on the bed’s edge, the mattress dipping slightly.

“So,” she gestured broadly, “what?”

 “Did you read my letter?”

“Yeah,” she replied curtly. “Thanks. Consider it a clean slate or whatever. I don’t want to trudge on it.”

“I think we should,” he objected.

“I think we shouldn’t,” she retorted.

“Ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away,” he pointed.

“It’s not a problem anymore,” her voice hardened.

“Your tone implies otherwise,” Peter contradicted.

“Because it’s eleven o’clock and I want to sleep. You want to talk about feelings. We’re at an impasse,” she scowled.

He reclined back, laying on his side.

“Humor me,” Peter beckoned.

“I’d rather not,” she grumbled.

“Where’d I go wrong?” Peter probed.

“ _Wow_ ,” she exaggerated. “Straight for the throat, huh?”

“I want to know, Danielle,” Peter said seriously. “Somewhere we split. I don’t think we’re completely severed but that bridge needs serious repair after years of neglect. Consider this an assessment – seeing what needs the most work first. So, moment of truth, hit me with it. Where did I lose you?”

Danielle was not ready for this talk and did everything in her power to avoid meeting his eyes.

“I’m not going to judge you,” Peter assured, “or punish you, if that’s what you fear. I’m serious when I say I want to fix this. That means talking about serious issues. Issues that are uncomfortable and painful. I don’t have a relationship with my dad. I’m not going to let that continue to the next generation. It’s lonely and a burden I do not want you to carry your entire life. You can be mad or frustrated all you like – that’s usually how it goes with your age – as parents we tend to do that to teens. At the end of the day though, I want us to have a better relationship than before. It might take a while but I’m very patient. So, the floor is yours. Where did I lose you?”

_Breath. Stare at the wall. Inhale. Exhale._

How was it she hadn’t said a word and she already felt a lump in her throat?

“Danielle,” her father pressed.

She shrugged.

There she went again – shutting down, shutting him out.

“Okay,” he re-assessed with a slow huff. “Let’s… okay, let’s pretend you’re five. That’s when you started to get icy. If you were to – _hmm_ – if you were to advocate for your five-year-old self, what would you say?”

“How about you stop catering to Katie all the goddamn time? Or Ollie? Jesus, you have more than two kids – act like it,” she grumbled. “If you didn’t have time for them, don’t have them.”

 _There we go!_ He thought.

“It doesn’t work that way, Danielle,” Peter shuffled. “You were planned. Owen was not. But we welcomed you both into this world with as much love and excitement as we did the twins. We should have time managed much better than we did but we didn’t foresee how chaotic our household would get. We tried our best.”

“Didn’t feel that way,” she retorted. She still avoided his eyes. He wanted her to meet his eyes, to establish that connection, but if he was getting this much as she was now – avoiding eye contact – he wasn’t going to push it yet. 

“So you’ve been holding a ten-year grudge over sibling rivalry,” Peter summarized.

“ _No!_ ” Danielle erupted. “I’m mad because I had to work three times as hard to get an ounce of attention Katie got! She got to play a couple of keys – fine – but you did everything for her! You went to all her recitals! You dragged the whole family! Then there’s Ollie, the golden! We went to every single one of his games! You made me practice with the boys! I never got to sleep in on a Saturday morning. Two hours of my time wasted, reminded time and time again Ollie and Katie would always come first!” She slapped her hand on the comforter, disturbing her papers. He swore her voice cracked, too, but she was quick to hide her eyes behind wild hands.

“I’d just be in background – perpetual wallpaper! Never once did you ask me what I wanted to do! You did maybe once or twice but that went out the window the moment Katie asked for something – next thing you know, I’m told I have to hold off or wait. I was done waiting around for false promises!! I just stopped trusting you’d actually follow up with your word! And then suddenly now I’m the difficult child! What kind of bullshit is that??”

She’s staring at him now. Her eyes are burning with tears but she’s not breaking down. He finally sees what Lara Jean described as pure resentment. It was tough to face.

Peter thought he was ready for this conversation.

He might have been over his head.

“I disappointed you?” He fumbled.

“CONSTANTLY!” she all but yelled.

 _Ow_.

“You and Mom were never home! I came home to an empty house all the fucking time and I just got used to it. And when you did get home, it was all about what Katie did. What Ollie did. Oh, how’s little man Owen? WHERE  THE FUCK WAS I? Somewhere patched on the wall, I guess!” She tossed her hands up.

“You couldn’t have made it more obvious how fucking invisible I was! I stopped coming home at all. I’d stay at school in the library until five thirty and take my sweet time walking home and you had no clue. Then, I started helping teachers, and getting involved with science fairs. I was good! I was getting so many praises on my report card but that didn’t mean nothing when Katie performed here or there. God, I could never escape her shadow! Never!! I tried my damnedest to be something to get your praise and I barely got any damn recognition. I went far and beyond, more than I should have ever went. I exhausted myself to the point I didn’t any sleep. I doubted myself. I was depressed and I’m confident had it not been for Mr. Hardesty to remind me I was worth something, I’d probably end up like Mr. Olsen across the street. I wouldn’t have gone the way he did but I would have found a way that wouldn’t have been so graphic. But I didn’t – instead I used that energy to be the best version of myself and stopped letting you guys dictate my self-worth. It wasn’t easy but I did it,” she croaked. “I’m not letting any of you take that away from me again.”

“I…”

Peter was speechless.  There was so much to unload.

His daughter was quivering and had taken up comforting herself with a pillow, holding it close to her stomach.

“You would have taken your own life?” his hands shook.

“I was a desperate eight-year-old who was tormented by her siblings, neglected by her parents, no self-worth, and left to her own devices – why don’t you figure it out,” she growled. “I’m ashamed of myself I even contemplated the idea but then I had no support system outside of school.”

There was an element of control that appealed to her by then. It would have been a short but permanent decision. Danielle shook even thinking she’d been so low. She wouldn’t be where she was at now had her demons gotten the best of her.

“I found something I was good at. I got recognized by all my peers. I was getting awards. I was getting praise. It was addicting. I didn’t want it to stop. So I didn’t let it. My fierce obsession with being recognized got me to this point and I don’t regret it once,” Danielle pursed her lips. “I have a gift and I intend to use it. You don’t get to capitalize on it, not on my hard work. You weren’t there and you’re not entitled to any of it.”

“You did this to spite us,” his brows knitted.

“I did all of this to show you what you missed out on,” she retorted sharply.

“You planned this out since you were five?” Peter scrabbled.

“No, dumbass,” she bit. “I decided to protect myself. To do that, I had to cut you out. I was nine. It was my first major science fair. My first award. I worked so hard on it. You never showed. Not you, not mom. You all went to get ice cream with Katie and Ollie after her piano practice. I couldn’t even enjoy my first major win because you had to remind the moment I walked through those doors I’d never be enough. I walked home alone feeling like shit. I felt the worst than I ever had that night and cried myself to sleep. Never again will you ever make me feel like I was nothing,” she sniffled.

She couldn’t keep composed. Her chest hurt. Her throat swelled. She most certainly shed years and she wiped them off her cheek with the back of her hand.

He tried to touch her – a hand extended out – but she slapped it down.

“Don’t touch me,” she sneered. “You’ve done enough.”

He never anticipated the damage he unintentionally inflicted. He could feel himself breaking. She tried to be so strong but her face showed her true feelings – absolutely distraught.

“I’m so sorry, Nell,” his voice croaked.

He just wanted to scoop her in his arm and reassure her it’d be alright. He’d only do more harm than good. She resented him. She didn’t want him – not anymore. She practically disowned him. Her own father! She despised him for all the disappointments he’d committed. He had mistaken – the bridge had collapsed. He have to build a brand new one altogether.

“You just needed someone in your corner,” he repeated his train of thought. She nodded, pulling her knees up. She wrapped her arms around them, hiding her face.

He finally found her gooey center but it felt like a bitter victory. Seeing her so defeated and weak tore him up. He had to fix this and fix this fast. He was losing her too soon. She’d be gone next year. She might never come back. He couldn’t let her go on in this state.

“Does it feel better you got that off your chest?” He fiddled with this thumbs.

“Kind of,” she mumbled.

“Good,” he nodded. “I’m glad you could.” He didn’t know where to start. “I don’t know if I could survive in a world without you. If you ever feel like that again, tell someone. If not me or your mom, Mary or Rebecca. I couldn’t bear it if one day you’re here and then the next you’re not. You’d be missed by a lot of people. ” He felt his eyes burn and he cast his head down. “I used to lose sleep, too, wondering if you’d make it. As a baby, I mean. It was irrational and paranoid but I was so scared I’d wake up and find you… in a way I wouldn’t be able to recover from. You were so little and quiet. I’d have nightmares that you’d leave us too soon… it was stupid to think about it. Everyone told me not to worry. They were right. You grew up healthy and strong and  resilient and I couldn’t be any prouder. It scares me to see how fast you grew but I see how far you’ve come. I know I don’t have to worry about you. I know you figured it out. I’m so sorry you had to do it alone.”

He wiped his wet cheek with his sleeve.

“I wasn’t there when you needed me to be. I wasn’t there the way I should have been for you. It was unfair. I could explain my side but that doesn’t make a difference. What’s done is done and the damage is there. What’s left to do is try to fix it. We can’t roll back and re-do it. I wish I could but we both know that’s not possible. It’s been done and it’s been festering for far too long. I couldn’t be there then but I want to be there for you now, if you let me. I know it feels awkward and unfamiliar but we can start somewhere.”

She took a long moment to answer.

“…k,” she mumbled quietly.

That was progress.

“Can I get a hug?”

“…no,” she shook her head.

“Danielle,” he pleaded.

She hadn’t hugged him in forever it seemed. He last recalled hugging her when she was a mere toddler. That was a _long_ time ago.

“Please,” he persisted.

They both looked miserable. Her face was red and puffy. He looked utterly broken and eyes brazenly red.

“I miss you, a lot,” he coaxed. “You always gave the best hugs.”

“No,” she was louder.

“Just one,” he begged. “I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“Fine,” she whimpered.

He smiled. Not too big of one but just enough to show he was content with her showing effort.

“You gotta actually hug me, kid,” he added.

She rolled her eyes and shuffled closer, leaning in for a half-ass hug. She didn’t anticipate him enveloping her. He held her too tight. He wasn’t ever letting go.

“Dad,” she muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he rubbed her back. “I’m going to enjoy this as long as I can.”

She may have grown like a weed but she was still tiny in his arms.

“I love you more than life itself,” he assured, resting his head against hers. “You’re my everything. I’m sorry I didn’t show it enough.”

“K… cool… let me go, please,” she grumbled.

“No, not yet,” Peter replied. “I’m going to tell you all the reasons why I think you’re amazing because you haven’t heard them from me enough. I’m going to do it now while I have you trapped.”

“ _Great_ ,” she grumbled.

Yep, her love of sarcasm confirms it – definitely his daughter.

“Where to begin? Hmm. Let’s start with how independent you are. I used to hate it. I feared you never need me. Now, I think it’s probably one of your greatest strengths. You have a confidence and determination that makes you unstoppable. You achieved so much just by sheer will. It’s amazing what you’ve accomplished.” He kissed the crown of her head. It was what set her apart from her siblings. She could always rely on herself to get something done and she never waited from anyone, especially her parents, to do it. From projects, presentations, and auditions – she had it handled.

“I know you’re fiercely loyal and protective,” he followed. “Your friends admire you. They know you have their back. They have yours. You risked getting in trouble to defend your best friend. You’re a great friend and ally anyone would be consider themselves blessed to have in their corner.” Mary was a testament to their longstanding friendship. They survived six years and still going strong. Her peers and acquaintances viewed her highly. She bonded strongly with her teammates. She just had a connection with people that immediately drew them in and she never was one to leave them hanging.

“You’re generous and considerate. You’re a team player. You want others to succeed just as much as you. It’s noble and respectable. It’s what sets you apart from others. Your giving nature is the reason why you have so many admirers. From your friends to your teachers. You have a gift and a heart and you use both freely.”

Her resistance wavered. Her shoulders dropped and he hoped she was finally relaxing. His shoulder felt a shift from a mere feather-touch to the full weight of her head propped against it.

“You’re wicked smart and so talented. Wherever you go, they’ll be lucky to have you. You have everything you need to succeed in that brilliant head of yours. You have all the answers. You always have a plan and you knew you’d never settle or be told otherwise. You have spirit and wisdom beyond your years.”

“You are a crazy good dancer. I don’t see it enough. You have this charisma that draws people in. You have a natural spotlight. The life of the party,” he smiled.

“What a runner, too! You have endless energy and life! I see you on the field and you are unstoppable! You dominate the field and make these unbelievable passes. You are so good at what you put your mind to and nothing gets in your way. You can’t be beat! You get into this mode that you can’t snap out of it – you get so into it. You have focus and an intensity that is impossible to replicate.”

“What do you say, kid – we try to figure this out,” he nudged her. “I know I’m way late in the game but I think I’d like to know that girl. I think she’s someone I’d love to know. She sounds pretty cool.”

“ _You’re so cheesy,_ ” she mumbled. He swore she was smiling. She had to have been. “Whatever.” She pulled away slowly, collapsing into her pillows. “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep,” Peter patted her arm. “I’ll clean this up.” He gathered her papers and computer. “By the way, we’re getting you a new laptop. I don’t know what else to get you.”

“ _Nooo_ ,” she groaned. “I like my computer. I bought it myself. It’s my baby.”

Peter had to chuckle. Of course, she’d be protective of her own property.

“What should I get you then?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled into her pillow. “A Harvard sweatshirt – I don’t know.”

“Harvard?? What??”

“Great,” she used her notorious sarcasm. She rolled to her side. “I’m going to Harvard. I don’t know. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“WHAT?”

“Shh, you’re annoying”

“HARVARD?!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She threw the covers over her bottom half, getting comfortable. “Mary convinced me,” she grumbled groggily. “Stanford is taking too long. They shouldn’t take this long to realize I’m worth it. I hate waiting. Harvard is better ranked anyways…They’ll get a chance to redeem themselves when I apply for grad school... after I use Harvard’s library for my personal gain,” she yawned.

“YOU’RE GOING TO HARVARD??”

“Shut up!” She whined, throwing a pillow in his direction. It hit him square in the chest. “Shh.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO HARVARD!!”

“One more word and I’m changing my mind.”

“Okay, okay,” he whispered. “Can I tell your mother? Wait, your grandfather! No, your grandmother.”

“You can’t tell anyone!” she griped. “Not yet. I have to ask Thompson.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded excitedly. “Wait, are you still doing lacrosse??”

“FUU-! YES!” She groaned loudly. _“PLEASE LET ME SLEEP! I’M EXHAUSTED!_ ”

“ _Yes_!” he whispered excitedly, pumping his fist in the air. “Okay, goodnight kid. Love ya!”

“Love ya, too,” she mumbled back, barely coherent.


	17. Bestest of Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory on how Mary and Danielle came to be  
> Also another fluffy piece. Kind of. It ends on a happy note, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am Mary. Mary is me.   
> Eh, we're both Minnesotans.   
> #SKOL

Mary and Danielle had a very special bond. It went beyond just friendship. Mary was certain Danielle had to have been her actual sister in another life. They just had to wait until sixth grade to rediscover the other.

When Mary moved to New York from Minnesota, she didn’t know what to expect. She grew up in a small, rural town and suddenly, her dad announced they’d be relocating to a new city – not any city – but New York City. Most girls would love to hear that but Mary wasn’t one of them. She was leaving behind everything and everyone she knew. Her grandparents, her humble little 3-acre farm and the playset full of memories, her school friends, and the lake down the street. She didn’t want to leave it all behind but she had no choice.

They moved from their idyllic little house on the prairie to a leaky fixer-upper in a rough side of town. She had to share a room with her younger siblings. Her older brothers got their own room – together – but still, they didn’t have to share a bedroom with infants like she did.

Mary was shy and soft spoken. She didn’t know how to make friends with her new classmates. They were loud, abrasive, and bold. They overwhelmed her. She sat in the back of the class and waited desperately to be dismissed. She just wanted to go home and watch her movies.

She didn’t know Danielle existed until her 3rd day of class. Her usual seat in the back was taken by another girl and she looked too mean for Mary to confront. She slowly walked up to the front where one seat remained. Next to it was a girl with long black hair and intense brown eyes. She was focused on the board and had a seriousness about her that didn’t seem very friendly.

Then, in a split second, all of that changed.

The girl turned, noticed Mary, and flashed her a warm, bright smile.

They spent the next few minutes making introductions and sharing interested.

The girl shared her name was Danielle. She hated being called Danny. Nell or Nelly was okay.

Mary announced herself as Mary Winslow from Minnesota. She had the accent. She didn’t when people called her Anne Shirley, Wendy, or Pippi Longstocking. Her hair was a touchy topic.

Mary wished they were best friends in that instant but instead they were just _good_ friends. Danielle shared her supplies and Mary liked Danielle’s humor. She was confident and so smart. She was everything Mary aspired to be.

Enter Hannah Smidt, _the_ popular girl in middle school.

Hannah took a liking to Mary. It was the greatest shock to the shy farm girl from middle of nowhere Crookston. The pretty blonde with the best outfits took her under her wing. They hung out all the time.

For whatever reason Mary didn’t understand then, Danielle didn’t like Hannah. Danielle liked Mary and still talked to her in class but whenever Hannah was around, Danielle shut her out. Hannah did not like that at all. She’d bad mouth Danielle at every opportunity and the next, try to butter up to the dark-haired girl. Mary was very confused by all of it.

Mary started to notice Hannah wasn’t really a nice girl. She made mean remarks about Mary’s big family and scoffed when Mary apologized about her house next to the “unfavorable,” Hannah called them. Hannah always boasted about how nice her things were, how big her house was, what her parents bought, and didn’t care if Mary was ashamed of her own status whenever reminded of the stark contrast. Hannah would say Mary should consider herself lucky Hannah even let her sit with them.

Mary told all of this to Danielle.

Danielle, who lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, who’s dad drove a nice car, who’s mom worked in the same hospital as Mary’s but could actually save her paycheck to buy extra things – by all accounts, Danielle and Hannah were so similar – and yet _so_ different.

Danielle didn’t pity Mary the way Hannah did. She didn’t talk down to her. Instead, Danielle defended her. She went to Hannah and told her to keep her botched nose job and airhead opinions out of Mary’s life and returned to her seat without any remorse.

 _That_ was when the two became best friends.

 

Mary soon realized Danielle didn’t have the perfect home life Mary thought she did.

Just because she lived in a decent zip code didn’t mean she had the perfect family. Far from it.

Danielle suffered just as much from the middle child syndrome as Mary did. She had an older brother and sister who upstaged her whenever they could. Her little brother came next, demanding all the attention he could since he could barely function on his own. Her siblings were spoiled by all the attention and praise. Danielle was barely fed scraps. She started to just not care anymore – she stopped trying altogether.

Mary could empathize. Her mother was a workaholic. Her dad was never home because of insane flight schedules. She had to constantly take care of her younger siblings. It was stressful. Mary couldn’t understand how easily Danielle shut out her parents, as if she disowned them. Mary couldn’t see herself disowning her own mother despite her unintended neglect. She just had a lot on her shoulders to keep the family afloat and functioning. Mary’s dad brought in decent income but with six kids, his paycheck didn’t get as far as other’s.

Danielle started to make herself at Mary’s house. She’d help Lydia – then just starting school – with homework. Lydia liked the attention from both girls. They spoiled her with the spotlight. She keep the cantankerous Matthew – in the prime of his terrible threes – calm in her lap. He adored her and was remarkably quiet whenever in her embrace. Rachel was barely a year old and her mother struggled with keep up with her demands. Danielle was a natural and practically adopted Rachel as her own. The best friends looked after the growing infant, easing a huge burden off Mary’s mom.

Mary’s mom – Rebecca – started to call Danielle her seventh child. Danielle glowed every time she did.

Mary then realized her family had become Danielle’s surrogate family. Danielle implanted herself in the Winslow family by being as much help as possible. Her assistance was welcomed and greatly appreciated.

She cared for Mary’s siblings. They _adored_ her. Matthew especially. Lydia liked Danielle’s company and talked her ear off but if Danielle minded, she never said anything. Rachel idolized Danielle. Rachel always gushed about her.

Danielle got along with her older brothers – quiet teen Adam and the brazen pre-teen Isaac. Both boys approved of Danielle and began to interact with her on a daily basis, both outside and in school.

She looked up to Rebecca with so much respect and admiration. Rebecca welcomed her with open arms and reminded how much her presence was welcomed. The two became good company, especially when they made impromptu visits at the hospital – whether it be to drop off lunch or just say hi. Rebecca was the first one Danielle greeted, opposed to her own mother who worked on a different floor. It was nice for the three of them to chat by the desk, laughing and sharing stories. Danielle, Mary, and Rebecca. A mother hen and her chickees.

When Mary’s Dad – Mark – finally met her, he took to her instantly. She was kind, respectful, and patient. She’d help clean the house, look after the little ones, and join in the family shenanigans. She was smart, had a plan, and  “a good head on her shoulders,” which was huge coming from such a stern guy like himself. By all accounts, she earned herself a key.

Mary wasn’t jealous at all. She was over the moon at the thought of another sister her own age. She was glad Danielle was considered part of the family. She lavished the idea.

They started a tradition. Many traditions.

Like her birthday. She hated her birthday. It was an awkward time for Danielle. Usually no more interesting than the living room wallpaper, suddenly she was forced to be the center of attention. She was thrown gifts, questions, and in front of the camera. It was too one-eighty for her. She wanted to just hide. So she did, in her bedroom. That would not do at all, Mary decided.

Mary invited her to a sleepover. It was Halloween weekend, too, so a double whammy. Rebecca baked her signature fudge and caramel brownies because Danielle loved caramel like no other person in the world. It was a special recipe. Extra gooey. Danielle could have died from a diabetes overdose that night. She couldn’t rain enough compliments to the chef.

They played board games for hours. Monopoly, Clue, Mousetrap – you name it! They had a shelf full of it. Everyone played. Adam, Isaac, Lydia, Matthew, and Rachel, too. The whole family except her father who was across the ocean. It was so much fun.

They spent the rest of the night watching movies. Hocus Pocus, The Nightmare before Christmas, old Goosebumps videos, Hallmark’s Sleepy Hollow, Halloween Town, anything Halloween themed. They popped more popcorn that night than the entire year. All the kids slept in the living room, cuddled in blankets and couch pillows. Matthew made himself comfortable between Mary and Danielle. Lydia slept on Mary’s side and Rachel hugged Danielle’s back the entire night.

They dressed up as mad scientists for Halloween and trick-or-treated Washington Heights, gathering a handful of candy before Rebecca got scared. It was getting dark and most of the kids were running home.

She slept over again that night, too late to be picked up or dropped off. Mary was in heaven. They played Wheel of Fortune and dropped dead asleep at midnight.

Rebecca gifted her a stethoscope. It was obnoxiously green and oversized but Danielle teared up with sheer happiness. She couldn’t be more thankful. Mary presented a with a knitted hat. It wasn’t done right but Danielle insisted on wearing it out the door. She’d wear it until one day, her mom accidently threw it away thinking it was an overused rag. By the time she realized her mistake, the garbage man had already emptied the bin. Danielle cried for days. Mary told her she’d crochet her another. She did. Danielle still wore it, even if pink wasn’t her favorite color. Even with that ridiculous purple doily.

Danielle called within an hour she got home. She had the best birthday ever that weekend. Mary was the bestest friend to ever best friend in the history of best friends.

They made sure to repeat it every year.


	18. Sisterly Woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie's a menace.   
> Danielle is prepping for her Birthday.   
> Peter's being embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a whack order but I'll alter it later on.   
> Reminder: Nell's birthday is on Oct 29. It's coming up on the timeline. 
> 
> I PROMISE LARA JEAN WILL GET A BIG ROLE SOON.   
> I SWEAR.   
> Jealous Mama will bring out the big guns.

Danielle could smell bullshit a mile away.

It smelled like Victoria’s Secret bombshell. _Katie’s favorite_.

Of all three-hundred-and-sixty days  of the year, Katie decided Danielle’s birthday was the perfect time to reconnect with her little sister.  Katie took it a step further and announced she wanted to _plan_ it.

Danielle could hear Natalie’s booming voice in her head. Like the time Natalie’s cousin stole her favorite pair of Timberlands. Everyone in the locker room could hear her.

**Oh Hell No!**

Natalie was ready to cause a scene that day, and honestly, so was Danielle that moment.

_‘Oh Hell No’ **was right**.  _

She was ready to jump over the dinner table and slap that ridiculous smile off her sister’s face.

This smelled overwhelming like bullshit. Her parents might believe her shit, thinking she’s ‘ _so sweet_ ’ but Danielle can see right through her façade.

This was just another case of Katie trying to hijack another day from Danielle, just to feed her own narcissism. Everything she pitched had one thing in common – _Katie_ wanted to do. Katie liked that high-end Italian restaurant. Katie liked the theater. Katie liked those hip little smoky joints where people recited poems for snaps. Katie liked raspberry cheesecake.

“I have plans,” Danielle interrupted Katie’s stream of nonsense.

Katie’s face fell and soon contorted into a glare.

“What do you mean?” Katie gaped. “Then cancel them!”

The absolute gall. The woman comes out of the blue one weekend to demand Danielle drop everything – on her birthday no less – to appease Katie’s personal whims.

“Uh, that’s a definite no,” Danielle smiled sarcastically.

“Dad!” Katie whined.

“It’s her birthday,” Peter shrugged. “Nell can do what she wants.”

“Thanks,” she nodded – not showing too much expression. Internally though, she was delighted to have him on her side for once. Since the whole letter fiasco and emotional mess that followed, they were slowly coming to a middle ground.

“Seriously?” Katie scowled. She sneered at her sister. “What do you have planned?”

Danielle _was_ going to go to her favorite bodega to pick up her coveted deluxe-ham combo from her favorite man on the west side – Juan Ramirez, _JR_ – because he gives her free flaming hot Cheetos, too. On holidays and special occasions – like _her birthday_ -  JR would give her extra churros, too, free of charge. JR treated her well because she often helped his son, Miguel, with his math problems whenever she stopped by for something to eat. JR has been repaying her with food ever since.

Then she’d pick up piping hot tamales at the corner stand, talk stocks with Martin, he’d spoil her with the sauce of the day – she’d never pass up his homemade green chili sauce – and enjoy a brisk Snapple alongside her best friend, people watching.

They hit their favorite shops: Mary’s vintage bookstore, chill at the park, play old records at the vinyl shop, and then maybe take a detour to the coffee shop for the most elaborate drink they could concoct. Mary still set the record at $28 for a single (abet _trenta_   - aka the largest size you can order) macchiato something – Danielle couldn’t recall.

After all that menacing, they’d return to Mary’s house, watch something soft because Mary was the biggest wuss Danielle knew ( _and loved_ ), and eat her weight in caramel-fudge brownies Mary’s mom made. Rebecca made some dope brownies with extra gooey caramel.   Danielle’s mouth water just thinking about them.

But that was before Natalie insisted on treating Danielle – and to be frank – Danielle didn’t mind at all. Quite the opposite. She loved the idea. Mary and Danielle would still do their unique Manhattan tour – just on Sunday, _after_ her birthday.

As for Saturday, the day of the birth, she looked forward to a whole new set of plans. After practice, that is. She would still sleepover at Mary’s house, treasuring her best friend’s company in much needed one-and-one time and therefore continuing their annual birthday tradition without interruption, but she’d spend most of the evening at New York’s scariest haunted house alongside half her lacrosse team and their significant others. It was going to be the greatest thing ever! She never had so many people so eager to have the shit scared out of them with her!

Before hitting the haunted house, they’d meet up at Elise’s much suggested sushi spot to celebrate Danielle’s birthday. It was casual, decent food that Danielle would take over $18 plates with fancy Italian names.

“Sushi with the Pod and then hit Blood Manor – Natalie got express tickets and we all paid our portions – _and then_ I’ll hit Mary’s for our annual birthday sleepover,” Nell listed off her fingers. “After that, we spend the next day touring the west side and I’ll come home whatever we’re doing.” She waved it off toward the end.

“Tour? You’ve been there a thousand times!” Katie scowled.

 _You’ve been to those stupid, hipster joints and that ridiculous restaurant too many times, too,_ Danielle wanted to rebuttal. Instead, Danielle kept to her plan.

“We have spots we like to hit,” Danielle bared teeth in least-friendliest way she could muster behind a very fake smile.

“That sounds dull,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’ll take dull any day,” Danielle smirked. “It’s **_my_** _birthday_ – so I can do whatever I want. With whoever I want. Like my best friend – _of six years._ Or my awesome teammates, more if you include their partners. It’ll be a full house. I can’t bounce on them when it’s going to be so much fun.”

Danielle was being petty. She could tell she struck a nerve in the way Katie’s jaw lock.

Danielle just stared, unmoved.

 _Yeah, I went there_ , Danielle thought.

 _I can’t believe you said that_ , Katie’s eyes screamed.

 _I did though,_ Danielle smirked. _What are you going to do about it?_

Katie huffed angrily and steered her head away, now attentive to their mother who was  privy to the silent-spiteful exchange between sisters. She sent one discouraging look to both before distracting Katie with some inquiries about her next recital.

Ever the deescalater, their mother.

 

Katie made her break-up with her (now ex) best friend, Mila, very public on social media. Blocking Mila, deleting photos, erasing shared posts, and passive aggressive status with no names in particular but if you knew enough, you could suspect who the intended target.

Katie was not handling it very gracefully.

Four years down the drain. She heard the full story – or, rather, overheard it – from the living room while mother-and-sister had an animated discussion on Mila’s ‘betrayal’. Mila was saying not so nice things about Katie behind her back. All sourced from baseless jealousy, Katie was adamant to say. Mila was taking it an extra notch and made remarks about Katie’s covert narcissism. That was too far of an accusation to make, according to Katie, who then confronted Mila. Things went south fast and the two girls burned their friendships in a final screaming match.

The thing about sharing friend groups is when there is a divide between friends, sides are chosen, and apparently Mila had convinced the majority of said friends that Katie was the aggressor, and now Katie has to deal with the aftermath of losing half her friends and being labeled the bad guy.

Regardless of who the actual perpetrator was, Danielle wasn’t so much invested in Katie’s dysfunctional friendships as she was in taking as many cheap shots possible when Katie was trying to pull her usual tactics on Danielle’s birthday no less.

 

“You know,” Katie hotly said, “I’m trying to do something nice for you.”

They were by the sink, finishing dishes. Mother forced Katie to help Danielle when the younger had brought it upon herself to clean the dished after Owen cleared off the table.

“Take your charity elsewhere,” Danielle returned dryly.

She was almost done – Katie hadn’t lifted a finger aside from handing soap. She couldn’t afford fucking up her delicate fingers. Danielle’s hands were already damned – lacrosse alone was the main source of callouses but science experiments were equally daunting to her phalanges.

“You have more bite than usual,” Katie sneered. “What’s up your ass?”

 _You_ , Danielle wanted to scream but she wouldn’t grant her sister the satisfaction.

“Nothing,” Danielle shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Katie accused. “You’ve been cranky all weekend.”

 _Because it’s my birthday weekend and you’re here trying to ruin it_ , Danielle thought.

Like a saving grace, her phone went off.

The ringtone was Natalie’s personal twist – one of the samples from Chance the Rapper’s mixtape. Just like Anna’s was Shipping Up to Boston. (Mary’s was _Florence and the Machine’s_ Dogs Days are Over).

Danielle snatched her phone up from the counter and hit answer.

“Ay, what’s up?” She rejoiced.

“MOLLY’S IN!!!”

“AHH! YAS! THAT’S WHAT I WANNA HEAR!!”

She slapped the counter enthusiastically. It alarmed Katie so much she jumped.  

“She’s bussing up with her girlfriend,” Natalie confirmed, laughing towards the end. “I told her she had 24 hours to submit her costume or she’s out.”

“This is the best fucking news,” Danielle pumped her fist.  “So that’s 12 now.”

“Yep, we got ourselves one hell of a group,” Natalie shared her excitement. “Tomorrow is going to be amazing. I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” Danielle grinned. “I’m looking most forward to Riley losing a slipper. I don’t know how we did it but I’m glad we got her to come out. She’s going to need therapy after.” She laughed.

“Or Halo. Either one works.”

“We’ll buy her some before next practice, if she forgives us.”

“I bet you she will. She’s going to have fun. I’m itching for Dwyane to lose his shit. He’s spitting all this game but I know he’s going to be the first one screaming, okay maybe second after Riles. He’s such a baby – _hey! Hey! Babe, I love you – shh! I’m talking to Nell! Oh hush, you can prove me wrong tomorrow!_ Dwyane says hi and happy early birthday!”

“Thanks! I appreciate it! He better bring his game tomorrow because Blood Manor isn’t just a haunted house.”

“His scardy ass can’t stand clowns. It’s going to be the best thing ever to see him freak! _Hey! Quit it, Dwyane. I’m not questioning your manhood, chill! Ahh, don’t touch me – now is not the time – fuck – hey, girl, gotta go._ ”

“Kick is ass, Nat!” Danielle squealed, laughing as she hung out. 

“Who was that?” Katie inquired.

“Nat telling me Molly and her girlfriend is in,” Danielle replied curly.

“Oh, cool,” Katie shuffled awkwardly. “Speaking of girlfriends, what happened to Leah?”

Danielle rolled her eyes. Of course, she’d be nosy.

“We aren’t together anymore,” Danielle was about to dip.

“Why?”

“Because we aren’t,” Danielle shot her a dry look, walking past her.

“That’s not an answer,” Katie objected.

“That’s the answer you’re going to get,” Danielle glared.

Katie was stunned silent Danielle last remembered before heading up the stairs, locking the door behind her when she returned to the comfort of her room.

 

It wasn’t so much Leah was a touchy subject – it wasn’t.

Katie just didn’t need to know the drama behind it because then Katie would then presume it was her gossip to spread.

That relationship was old news. Danielle had no intention of reviving it for her siblings to discuss amongst themselves.

Leah and Danielle had some discourse. Amongst her friends, Danielle was out and proud. She knew since  ten she would not like boys. As she grew older, she knew it’d always be that way. Enter Leah: dark blonde hair, blue-grey eyes, and dimples. She had a soft hue about her, like a romantic historical drama. She was academic and shy. Danielle usually didn’t like the shy types but she was drawn to Leah’s quiet, pensive demeaner like a moth to a flame. She wanted to know what was going on in her head. They spent time out of the class together until they got closer than they ever had before. Little touches here and there. Pushing stray strands of hair. Hands on knees. Lingering hugs. Finally, _finally_ Leah kissed her first and Danielle could feel her heart soar.

Leah was so open behind closed doors but in public, she was hesitant to reveal the true nature of their relationship. It was like two personalities – there was Leah who loved showing affection and oh, so physical – so eager to be close and within touch. Danielle basked in her girlfriend’s attentiveness. Danielle lost her virginity at fifteen in Leah’s bedroom. They entangled themselves under her blankets and embraced their new level of nakedness.  That was something she thought solidified their connection.

Then there was Leah to everyone else – quiet, reserved, and conservative. She eventually didn’t mind holding hands down the hallway but that was about it. Kissing was out of the question. Mary could see how much it troubled Danielle but kept reassuring her to be patient. Young, lesbian relationships were difficult to manage when one side wasn’t as confident as the other. So, when Leah started to close up, Danielle went to Mary for emotional comfort – and Mary knew exactly what to say to ease Danielle’s anxiety.

Leah was very insecure about Mary. Mary was Danielle’s best friend. Leah felt like she had competition yet ironically wasn’t even sure about her own place in Danielle’s life. It was a conundrum. So she’d try to push Mary to the side but Danielle wouldn’t have it. Mary was a fixed fixture in Danielle’s life and no one was going to make her reprioritize one of the few people she trusted with her life.

Leah was so frustrated she took it out on Mary who had been nothing but supporting at that point. Unspeakable things were said. Something about her father never being home for a reason. Nevermind Mr. Winslow’s job provided a decent living for their family, no matter how far it took him. He always came with gifts and stories for his kids. He just wanted the best for them in the way his father tried for him. Just a small-town farm boy trying to grow the horizon for the next generation.

Mary never divulged all of the bathroom argument but what she did was enough to set Danielle off. No one comes after her best friend and makes her cry alone in the bathroom stall.

Leah was taken aback by Danielle’s anger. She tried to justify her actions as being an “emotional bomb” caused by other things but Danielle was sick of her excuses. She told her under no circumstance was Mary to be subjected to such abuse and that she’d never expose to Leah’s cruelty again.

_You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. You’re supposed to be on my team!_

_I was! All the time! You never held your end of the bargain!_

_What do you mean by that?!_

_I mean I’m done settling for half. We’re done._

_Are you serious???_

_Very. There are very few things I won’t tolerate: coming after my best friend and making me settle for less. **You’ve** committed both. I’m done dealing with your insecurity. Figure it out when you want to – I’m done waiting. _

By fourth period, half the school knew they broke up. Danielle kept her head high. Mary was moved by Danielle’s action – both for standing up for herself and Mary, too. She made sure to check in with Danielle every hour for the next two weeks until Danielle convinced her best friend she was one hundred percent okay. Danielle didn’t once regret her decision. Leah returned to her quiet corner, blending into the background until she accepted Max Petrich’s prom proposal that Spring. Last time Danielle heard, they were celebrating their 7th month mark.

Danielle spent the rest of her Friday night finishing up her thesis amendment, sending her fourth draft to Thompson to review. She appreciated his insight and she knew her contribution to the study could win her $1,500. $1,500 for college expenses. She wasn’t going to turn down more money opportunities – especially with Grad school being uncertain. Harvard may continue their no charge streak but Stanford Med was a different story.  

He was all too happy to build up her resume.

Her proposal was promising. Math major, Chem Minor. (Kill her now). All expenses paid. Thompson was on board and had her sign the paperwork. She received the e-mail confirmation within three days. She was confirmed.  

Thompson even gifted her a crisp, red hat with Harvard’s logo on the spot. It fit like a glove. Her father noticed it right away when she came home. He probably would have cried had it not been for Danielle’s glare daring him to do it.

He did lose his shit when she mentioned possibly touring the campus next weekend – since she already committed. Not the best order to do things but whatever, she decided. The next day he was sporting the most atrocious red vintage Harvard sweater she’d seen. He had it shipped in twenty-four hours. She told him she better not see that thing anywhere near him next Sunday when they’d make their way up to Cambridge. He made no promises.


End file.
